


Spirit of The Forest

by ttaeyongs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Amnesia, Angst, Childhood Friends, Dysfunctional Family, Fae & Fairies, Fantasy, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magic, Non-Linear Narrative, Romance, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 72,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttaeyongs/pseuds/ttaeyongs
Summary: Johnny can’t remember his past but visions of a mystical world full of faeries and creatures of myth dance behind his eyes every time he closes them.He finds himself caught in a whirlwind of moondust and snow beyond his wildest dreams when he meets a strange boy sleeping in the woods beside an elusive white stag.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 76
Kudos: 84





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> _You know as well as I that a faerie cannot spin a lie._

July 2nd, 2111

Palace of the Sun

The last twenty four hours felt surreal.

Everything leading up to this moment felt unreal— being woken in the middle of the day and rushed to get ready by the clawed hands of imps and hobs, the carriage ride in broad daylight to the upper levels of the earth.

Taeyong wasn’t even sure he was processing it all properly. All he knew for sure was it was way too bright. His eyes burned as he tried to adjust to the sun beating down on him from above. He wasn’t used to seeing it, was used to crawling into his bed as the sky turned the pale shades of dawn only to sleep until the moon was rising in the sky in her silvery beauty, glimmering in a sea of the dark blues and deep greens of twilight.

He was scared down to his core. Where was his mother? Where had she gone, she had said farewell and handed him over to the jewel eyed woman before him.

Glittering eyes and sun kissed hair. He vaguely remembered his lessons back in the palace, if he was ash and fallen snow, their eternal enemies were fire and sprouting blooms with their colored hair and glistening gemstone eyes— complete opposites of the inky black and crimson red eyes and ash toned hair he had grown up surrounded by.

Before him stood an entire court of jewels and blooms, sapphires, emeralds, topaz, rubies, lavender, rose, verbena. He felt something stir in his stomach as the woman with her sharp jaw and cold emerald eyes sneered down at him. Atop her flowing mahogany hair was a golden circlet adorned with leaves and flowers and so many glittering jewels it hurt his eyes to look upon.

 _She must be the queen_ , he thought but knew better than to bow to her. This wasn’t his court and as the second heir of her enemy’s court it wasn’t an option to yield or deign that kind of reverence to her— no matter how much her eyes cut into him and filled him with fear.

But where was his mother? Shouldn’t she be here with him? He swallowed down the fear he felt rising up in the pit of his chest. He was in the den of his enemies and left to his own devices— even his guard had been nowhere in sight.

What business did she even have here in the enemy’s court that required him— shouldn’t his sister the true heiress to their crown be here in his place?

Instead, surrounding him were paladins in glistening gold and platinum armor and the royal court with all their glittering robes.

To the left of the queen was a boy— fourteen maybe fifteen sweeps old if Taeyong had to guess. His eyes were too large for his head and his ears so short and stubby, wings not yet molten much like his own. He was all softer angles and rounded features compared to Taeyong with his long pointed ears that poked through his ash white locks, and his jagged teeth. The boy before him had gleaming eyes the color of sapling tree bark and short pointed ears barely breaching the radiant mahogany locks that mimicked his mother’s.

 _The crown prince,_ Taeyong remembered learning about him in his lessons too. He was to be the heir of the Court of the Sun and was said to be the embodiment of the summer with his golden skin and warm brown eyes, while Taeyong, the Prince of the Court of the Moon was compared to the coldest winter night with his snow white hair and shadowy black eyes.

Maybe if he were older he would make the connection that the other prince was the embodiment of everything that contradicted himself, but he only felt a longing in his chest— the Curse of the _Moonfolk_ his sister had called it, the desire to join the _Sunfolk_ and bask in the warmth of the Eternal Summer and envy their beauty.

His heart longed to be with them suddenly, captivated by their colorful appearances, and when he locked eyes with the prince he felt it twist in his chest and knock the air from his lungs.

He was beautiful.

His thoughts were shattered by a commanding voice— deep and regal. The entire room fell silent as the nobles dropped to their knees, even the prince averted his gaze as a flock of doves flew overhead.

Taeyong’s heart absolutely hammered in his chest as his mind drew blank.

 _Where is my mother?_ Was the only thought that replayed in his mind, he glanced around wildly hoping she would appear behind him somewhere.

“You will kneel before the fair king of the Court of the Sun and speak when he addresses you, or have you spent so long underground with the trows and boggarts that you’ve unlearned the Common Tongue?” Her voice was as beautiful as it was dangerous, like the sound of priceless glass crashing against stone and shattering.

The queen stood before him sneering, and her comment brought murmurs of laughter bubbling through the crowds of nobles. Even the prince had found amusement at his expense.

His cheeks heated as he realized the situation just moments before two paladins wrested his arms and forced him to the stone floor with a thud that resonated through his whole body and sent jolts of pain through his knees and up his spine. The more he struggled against them, the harder they forced his body down until a booted foot was pressed firmly between his shoulder blades and a hand tangled itself into his hair, claws scraping against his scalp as his head was forced to gaze down at the floor.

“Unhand me! I’m the prince of the Moon—” seeing white pain shot through the back of his skull as his hair was let go and his head was struck with the blunt end of an axe, sending the obsidian circlet of thorns atop his head clattering to the ground.

The queen approached the circlet on the ground and stepped on it, destroying it with the heel of her boot.

“You are a prince no longer,” she sneered, peering down her nose at him in disgust. “Now answer the King before I have them strike you once more with the sharpened end.”

The king stood tall before him, his presence almost too bright for Taeyong to even look at fully. He felt humiliation and fear bubble up deep inside him again, hoping the gods would hear his thoughts and prayers and bring his mother back to him.

Taeyong wasn’t even aware he was trembling until the king knelt before him and outstretched an arm to still him.

“I will not allow her to execute you here,” he said softly as he smoothed a hand over Taeyong’s cloak of crushed velvet and ravens feathers.

Taeyong felt warmth flood his body at the gentle touch and his nerves ease ever so slightly.

“Now tell me child, what is it they call you?” the king asked, rising to his full height and motioning for the guards to help him to his own feet and let go of him.

He swallowed thickly, not even sure if he could find his voice again.

“T-Tae, they uh, they call me Tae,” he managed to stutter out finally after a pause. Mentally he cursed himself, imagining his own father reprimanding him for wavering especially in front of the enemy.

“You will address him as ‘Your Highness!’” the queen spat, and Taeyong felt himself shrink into himself again, willing for the shadows of his cloak to swallow him whole and make him disappear from this place and tuck him safely back into his bed to sleep until moonrise, to make this all a distant and hazy memory like a long forgotten dream.

The king’s eyes were gentle, pupilless amber jewels with a kind light to them, much like the beautiful prince still beside the cruel queen.

“Tell me, _Tae_ ,” he started, testing the foreign name on his tongue, proceeding as if the queen had never made an outburst.

“Do you know why your mother, Queen of the Court of the Moon, has brought you to my court?”

He didn’t know— had no idea. She had woken him from his slumber, cold and distant as she instructed the hobs to dress him and get him ready for the day. He should still be in his burrow, warm and cozy as the sun continued its journey across the sky. Taeyong had no idea what he was doing in the Court of the Sun.

“No, sir,” he spoke softly, voice threatening to crack in fear once more. The court was silent around them and still his words barely carried.

The king’s eyes darkened for a moment as his brows furrowed as if looking at the boy in pity before speaking.

“You’ve learned of the civil war, correct?”

Taeyong nodded. Of course he remembered the history lessons, they had been drilled into his head since his eighth sweep when he was taught to read and write.

“There was only the court of the Fae, ruled by one king, a tyrant who only valued the beautiful creatures blessed by the gods themselves and the other creatures even some of his own people, the ones he deemed unworthy, revolted and—” the court erupted in laughter once more and Taeyong couldn’t understand why they thought the stories were anything to laugh at.

“A tyrant? Is that what they taught you deep in your burrows?” the king asked in amusement, amber eyes glittering with mirth.

“And what happened to those that rebelled?” the queen asked, pointedly staring down at him, glowering at him in disdain.

“They lost the war—”

“Yes, _your_ people lost the unfounded and misguided war and were cursed by the gods for rebelling against their order and banished you deep underground only to be allowed up here when the land is cold and barren, were made hideous just as the creatures that poisoned your minds are ugly,” the king continued in his place. Taeyong didn’t know why it stung so much hearing the king speak to him this way, but whatever dagger had been in his chest before slowly turned causing his breath to leave him once more.

“They weren’t poisoned,” Taeyong tried to defend, arguments on the tip of his tongue that died when the king rose his hand to silence him. He flinched and bit back bitter defeat knowing surrounded by an army of Sunfolk paladins he would never win.

“And every ten Seasonal Cycles the Court of the Moon presents an offering to us in repentance for their crimes,” the king continued, ignoring Taeyong’s argument entirely, watching as the fire faded from the child’s eyes as understanding dawned on him.

Taeyong’s eyes widened as he did the math on his clawed hands— two sweeps was one cycle he was fourteen sweeps born three cycles after the last tithing. His clan was due for their next tithe. He tried to process everything. Tried to remember his lessons if he had even been taught what the tithes had been in the past.

“You still think your people are in the right when they would willingly give up their only male heir as a tithe?” he asked Taeyong gently as one hand rose to cup the trembling boy’s chin.

His mother would never— where was she? Why had she left him in a courtful of liars and murderers. He could feel bile rising up from inside, could feel the pinpricks of tears in his eyes.

“You’re lying,” he cried out, the court gasped angrily at him at his audacity.

“You know as well as I that a faerie can not spin a lie,” the king spoke evenly, eyeing him with something akin to sympathy.

“We cannot lie but are masters of half-truths and omissions,” Taeyong thinks he hears the Sun Prince speak, echoing his own thoughts, before he feels warm breath against his ear.

“Taeyong Lee,” the king whispered and Taeyong felt his body seize up, ice cold dread washing over him with the revelation of the king knowing his whole name, knew who he was all along.

“You will fall asleep now,” the king whispered gently, watching as the boy’s eyes fog over and his trembling stilled as his body went lax.

“Did you think I would allow your family to hand you over without giving me absolute power over you?” the king asked, and it was the last thing Taeyong could register before his eyes fell shut and felt the numbness of sleep forcefully overtake his body, sending him tumbling to the cold stone ground.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the prologue! It’s kind of short and there’s not much that happened here but i’m so in love with this au so i guess lets see where this goes! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are literally so much appreciated they make my day that much brighter
> 
> [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_) | [ Curious Cat ](https://curiouscat.me/ttaeyongs_)


	2. Chapter I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Beware the perfect circles, of the colorful toadstools or vibrant grasses and sweet smelling flowers, and know the_ fairfolk _lurk here, luring in and entrapping the_ hyumes _that wander within their bounds.”_

_July 21st, 2127_   
_Neo City_

Johnny jolted awake. Sweat dripped from his brow and caused his white t-shirt to cling to his chest.

Another dream. The same boy, the same eyes that glittered onyx in the dark and a fiery crimson in the light with hair the color of fresh fallen snow.

He’d had this dream before. Two princes of warring nations, one a prisoner in a land that despised him and the other the heir to the throne of the kingdom that held the other captive.

The details were always hazy when he woke up and would fade from his memories until he’d have the same dream again. The only thing that ever seemed to stick was how everyone called the boy with snow white hair “ugly” and “hideous” a “monster” but Johnny always thought he was beautiful.

But just like every morning, they began to drift through his mind like smoke until they disappeared entirely from him.

He sat up in bed, eyes searching for the hologram clock in the corner. The glowing blue was the only light in his room and he had to squint to let his eyes adjust to looking at it before he could make out the black letters. 

3:31AM Thursday July 21st, 2127

Johnny rubbed the sleep from his eyes and groaned as he peeled himself out of the cozy confines of his bed.

Ever since Johnny could remember, his father had taken him deep into the forest for their annual hunting trip. It was supposed to be a time of bonding and a vacation from the ever changing city and the fast paced lifestyle that came with living among the elites of Neo that they acted out the rest of the year.

Every year was always the same, Johnny would wake before even the city did. The moon was always still so high in the sky with no promise of dawn any time soon, only shimmering streetlights and glowing neon down below the glass walls of his family’s penthouse and the occasional car speeding through deserted streets.

He’d wake and begin packing only his necessities. Even if it was a hunting trip in the mountains it was hardly considered ‘roughing it’ with all the amenities of his family’s private lodge.

He really didn’t need to bring anything with him at all if he was being honest, but he knew he couldn’t trust his father to pack his bow or arrows for him— always an advocate for the specialty guns he had designed that had earned their family fortune.

Johnny still preferred the traditional method of hunting, even if his equipment was a far cry from the primitive weaponry left behind in the twenty-first century. They were of course still prototypes since his father refused to take them seriously and expand his business past guns, stubborn and stuck in his own ways Johnny assumed.

He moved quietly through his room, punching a code into the keypad mounted beside his closet and waited patiently as the floor to his closet opened revealing a hidden storage compartment where he pulled out a metallic black bow and a quiver of matching arrows with translucent fins.

As he lifted the bow, his thumb slid over the riser finding a button just inside one of the grooves of the grip and pressed gently. He grinned in satisfaction as he heard the gears shifting inside and whirring to life as a clear string slid out from both the upper and lower limbs of the bow meeting together in the center, fastening together with a black ring at the nocking point.

He plucked the string twice to ensure it was tightened properly before raising the weapon, left hand in front of him on the grip as the index and middle finger of his right hand settled on either side of the knocking point on the serving. He peered through the sight window on the riser as if ready to line up a shot before snapping the empty bow string pretending to fire an arrow at his mirror.

Satisfied that his bow was in working condition he pressed the button on the riser twice in quick succession and allowed the string to come apart and retreat back into the limbs.

Johnny then pressed another button on the back of the riser, just below the sight window that caused the limbs to collapse in and the bow to shrink until it was only the riser and grip no bigger than the size of his hand and attached it to the belt of his quiver and leaned it against the door until he was ready to get dressed.

Across the apartment, he could hear the maids bustling around preparing breakfast for him and his father. Deciding he was nearly finished, he keyed in his code again to seal off the hidden compartment in his closet and turned on his heel.

His eyes landed on the other side of the room. Glinting in the dim light on his nightstand was a silver chain with a yellow stone bear claw hanging from it. He didn’t have any memory of when he had first gotten it, but he also didn’t have a single memory where he didn’t have it. The stone had been with him for all his life and even if it seemed silly to others, he felt empty without it.

He couldn’t explain it other than it just felt like there was some kind of energy flowing through it. A shop keeper called Seul he had grown fond of over the years had once appraised it for him, telling him it was a rare yellow jade— a stone that brought peace and joy to the wearer while protecting them and bringing good fortune. She had also told him it had a connection to nature and the world around it.

Seul seemed infinitely wise beyond her years about the as she called it “Magickal workings of the world”. He liked her a lot and her mysterious beauty. She never seemed to age, still looked the same as she had nearly a decade ago when he first met her.

It was silly, but sometimes, Johnny swore he saw a glimmer of sparkling gossamer red protruding from her back or pointed ears poking through her honey gold tresses. He always rationalized it as a trick of the light and amazing genetics that kept Seul looking so young.

Johnny wasn’t superstitious but he did know, like anyone else, that many stones had energetic properties to them that made certain ones better for specific tasks— like the hematite he had used to craft his bow. He had chosen hematite specifically because it was known for its ability to balance and ground the user while strengthening them which in turn made it much easier to focus and have a truer shot with his arrows.

Even the black stone tourmaline auto mechanics had begun incorporating into cars and other means of transport at the start of the 22nd century was used because of its protective qualities. Seul had always told him that everything that existed gave off life and energy, including the things that seemed unlikely.

It was information that had been around for centuries as myth, but it was only really proven true at the dawn of the 22nd century when scientists had learned how to extract the energy from the stones and harness it for their own use.

There were no clear accounts of how it was discovered, almost as if the knowledge had just existed one day as fact and had been around forever, there was no one scientists credited with the discovery which Johnny had always thought was odd. How could no one know the origins of this big of a discovery?

He pushed those thoughts to be back of his mind for the moment and crossed his bedroom to reach for the necklace. As he ran his fingers over the small stone Johnny felt a smile tug at his lips when he felt the energy dance beneath his fingertips, beckoning him to put it on and become one with it. Everything always felt so much more at ease with the claw hanging loose around his throat.

Once it was on, he cast one more look around his room, running through a mental checklist of exactly what he wanted to pack with him before getting dressed.

He already had his bow and plenty of arrows, the maids had also already seen to transporting his clothing and toiletries for him as well as stocking the lodge with enough food so they wouldn’t go hungry for the duration of the trip.

Really it was all down to any comfort items that he wanted to bring with. He always brought with him a few books in the event the weather wouldn’t cooperate with them— which it often didn’t— just something to keep his mind busy while his dad kept them cooped inside the lodge, as if afraid of the forest rain showers.

The current book he was reading was one on the various plants that grew on the edges of Emerald Grove, documenting the harmless ones as well as the toxic, which could be used for healing and which could be used as lures for certain creatures that dwelled deep within the grove. It included pictures of each one as well as which grew during what seasons and the optimal time to gather them.

It had a fantastical element to it, alluding to the forest being enchanted and had many side notes and warnings about creatures of myth that dwelled in the wooded grove to be wary of.

His father had thought the book to be a joke when he had first seen his son reading it, thought the knowledge was useless in the age of technology where he could simply scan the plant and could instantly have all that information at the tips of his fingers. Johnny supposed that was a valid argument, but he much preferred to study it himself so he wouldn’t have to rely on the tech or someone else’s words.

He never told his dad about the tales of kelpies and goblins that the book warned about. Johnny somehow had the feeling his father would burn the book on sight and say that if things like that existed he’d put a bullet between it’s eyes like the game he hunted.

Every year he even brought his own journal too, a small leather bound thing he had crafted for him in the lower sectors of the city from the hide of a deer his father had hunted years ago. Even though he was against hunting for sport, he was even more against the way his father simply touted the animals as trophies and discarded anything that he didn’t deem exciting enough to show off to guests.

Inside his journal he sketched his own drawings of the plants and write his own kind of notes about them after testing the ones deemed harmless by the _Emerald Grove Herbiary_ he carried with him. He’d even include notes on the creatures he found— nothing fantastical like the herbiary described but still interesting in their won right. The smaller animals seemed to be more playful in the Emerald Grove than they were anywhere else in nature Johnny had ever been.

Within the margins of his own journal he included notes from the herbiary as well if he stumbled across one of the more enchanting mysteries hidden in its pages.

On his nightstand, beside where his necklace had been resting, was the handstitched journal and without much of a second thought he lifted it up to leaf through the linen pages. As he flipped through the journal he landed on a page of one of the many warnings, scribbled beside a sketch of the forest floor, a ring of speckled mushrooms in which the center was barren dirt and gleaming red apples and berries so plump his mouth had watered.

“ _Beware the perfect circles, of the colorful toadstools or vibrant grasses and sweet smelling flowers, and know the fairfolk lurk here, luring in and entrapping the hyumes that wander within their thresholds_.”

He had showed it to Seul when he came home that year— she had been the one to sell him the herbiary in the first place and thought she might find it curious.

Her shock was evident when she snatched the journal from his hands and immediately pulled up the sleeves of his jacket and peered down the back of his neck, frantically before holding his hands and staring into his eyes imploringly.

“You didn’t breach the circle did you? Or eat the fruit?”

Johnny shook his head, startled by her outburst.

He had wanted to eat the berries then, but thought better of it, an instinctual feeling. Instead he had taken the golden ring from his finger— a gift from his late mother— and left it on the northern edge of the circle, he felt compelled to do so despite the ring being an irreplaceable heirloom.

When he had told Seul the story she huffed in relief but took one of her many shimmering bangles from her wrist— something that seemed far beyond the means of a simple shop keeper of the lower districts of their walled city, but Johnny never questioned Seul and no one else seemed to notice all the gold and jewels she adorned herself with.

“I don’t much get to make trips to the forest these days with the security around the city, if you find a ring like this again, could you please leave this in my place?”

Johnny carried it with him every year in one of the many bags that adorned his quiver belt, safe and away from the prying eyes of his father who would no doubt question him where he got something like that and wanting to protect Seul from anyone of the higher levels who might want to confiscate her valuables from her.

Outside of his room, he heard his father speaking to one of the maids in a low voice— probably asking about the status of their preparations for his trip.

Johnny took that as his cue to tuck the books away into his satchel beside his quiver and strip himself of the sweaty t-shirt he had slept in.

Quickly he changed into the clothes he had set out for himself the night before— a charcoal t-shirt and dark jeans, and slung the belt his quiver and bow were attached to around his hips before making his way into the pristine hallway of his family’s apartment.

The wall to his right was entirely glass and he could see the other sky scrapers littering the skyline of the city, Neo, as well as the many pathways below leading to the lower districts. Usually they were bustling with life of the middle class and the lower class trading with each other and sneaking peaks into the highest levels where only the elite were allowed access.

Somewhere, maybe in one of Johnny’s many history lessons, he vaguely remembered reading about the walled city of Kowloon from the 20th century and how his city aimed to mimic it’s structure. He remembered hearing tales of how the world beyond the walls were unsafe and by expanding the city upwards towards the clouds rather than outwards it was easier to keep the citizens safe.

Neo was broken down into four main districts and each district further broken down into various other numbered sectors.

The highest district, where Johnny lived, was the Sun District, only the wealthiest were allowed to see the Sun District. His family called Sector 7 home— it was reserved for only the wealthiest merchant families. Among the other sectors of the Sun District were politicians, celebrities and high ranking military officials.

Below the Sun District was the Cloud District, they were the wealthy middle class, mostly wealthy merchants, scientists and scholars. The Cloud District housed the majority of the schools and hospitals of the city as well. After the Cloud District was the Grass District— the poor and middle class laborers lived there mostly. Their main occupations were cultivating crops and manufacturing many of the city’s goods. And below the Grass District was simply known as the UG, or Underground, the poorest of the poor lived there and crime thrived.

Seul’s shop was in the UG, with many other shops far below the city that were rife with black market dealings. It was mostly forbidden to anyone of the Sun District since being seen that low could tarnish his family’s reputation or even bring about the end of his life if he wasn’t careful. Many people of the UG despised anyone who came from the Sun or Cloud districts.

Even on clear mornings when the clouds weren’t too dense, Johnny could never see the Grass district, he was that far above ground normally, and even from up so high, he couldn’t make out the edges of the city.

His eyes scanned the horizon, taking in the rest of the Sun District and all the flickering neon lights and reflections on the other glass buildings. In the distance he tried to see if he could see the dawn coming, but it was still a far way off for all he saw was the inky blackness of night.

The mouth of the hallway opened into a spacious kitchen where the scent of eggs being cooked wafted to him and the sound of his father speaking to the maids filled the room.

He was discussing plans with them on how he wanted the penthouse cared for in his absence and asking if she had prepared their transit passes for them to leave the city via one of the train lines that connected the various walled cities to each other.

 _The same as every year_ , Johnny thought. The maid who held his father’s attention was an older woman, Johnny could picture her in all of his earliest memories. She had been the one to nurture him in his mother’s place after she had passed away when he was freshly fourteen in a freak train accident that Johnny himself had narrowly survived and was fortunate enough to walk out without a single scratch— someone had been looking out for him he had always been told.

In the back of his mind he always attributed his protection to the yellow claw he wore.

Absentmindedly, he ran his thumb and forefinger over the glossy surface and pinched it— a habit he had developed years ago that always helped calm his nerves.

“Ah, John!” His father greeted, a wide grin on his face as he walked away from Ms. Kwon and approached him to clap his hand over his shoulder.

“Good morning, son,” his grin never left his face as it spread to Johnny’s own.

As much as he liked to pretend he dreaded these hunting trips, he always looked forward to leaving the walls of the city and experiencing the world beyond them even if it was only for a few days a year.

“How’d you sleep, father?” Johnny asked, not really caring but feeling the need to keep up pleasantries since the man was in a good mood for once— more than likely due to not having to be cooped up in his office for a few days and discussing weapons designs with people who weren’t as passionate as he was.

“Not a wink,” his dad laughed heartily and Johnny couldn’t help but laugh back and responded that he hadn’t either.

They made some more small talk as his father over looked the rest of the preparations of the trip— everything needed to be perfect for his trip.

Johnny distracted himself by sliding into the kitchen with Ms. Kwon who had busied herself with cooking the rest of the breakfast.

“He seems happier than usual,” she commented as she cracked another egg into the frying pan, her eyes not once leaving the food she was preparing.

Johnny simply hummed in response and opened the refrigerator to take out a glass pitcher of orange juice to set on the marble counter top of the breakfast bar.

“It’s a nice change of pace, he’s usually so angry in the mornings,” he finally replied after a beat.

Glancing up, Johnny saw his father approach one of the floor-to-ceiling window panels and type in a code on a keypad that appeared on the cold glass. The window turned black for a moment before a screen appeared that signaled it was establishing a connection to another device seconds before the image of a man appeared.

“Kim!” Johnny’s father greeted jovially. Behind the man on the screen, Johnny could make out the hearth of their lodge, a large stag’s head hung mounted to the wall above the mantle was all he could see behind him.

“Hello, Mr. Jung, how are things over on your end?” the man on the screen asked.

“Everything is well. John and I are going to have breakfast before we head to the train station, how’s the lodge?” Johnny’s father explained, all rapid fire speech and barely contained excitement.

Even Johnny couldn’t help but smile at his dad’s enthusiasm.

The last three months had been stressful to say the least— especially with next month marking the eighth anniversary of his mother’s passing. They were both on edge and everyone in the penthouse was aware.

“Everything will be in order before your arrival, you can rest assured and enjoy the ride out here,” the man explained. In the background, Johnny could make out the chatter of the different maids as they continued preparations.

He tuned out the rest of the conversation and turned back to Ms. Kwon who was finishing up with the eggs and placing them on a platter beside sausage, and grilled fish.

Johnny decided to finish helping by pulling out two rice bowls from the cupboard and scooping out two heaping spoonfuls from the rice cooker into them as another maid finished dicing up oranges and strawberries to place beside the platter of food.

The meal was relatively quiet between the two men as the women set to cleaning up and beginning their household chores as the men ate and it wasn’t long before Johnny was doing one last sweep of the living room and his bedroom to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything.

By the time they arrived at the train station, it was nearing 4:30 in the morning. The station itself was deserted save for the security and staff that worked there. Most citizens of Neo couldn’t even afford tickets out of the city, even if they were fortunate enough to obtain transit passes that cleared them.

Johnny could count on one hand the amount of people boarding the train that weren’t military personnel other than he and his father. A few others were CEOs that Johnny recognized from his father’s business dinners, another was the governor of Weishen— one of the neighboring cities.

Just like every year, Johnny and his father had their own car to themselves— of course Johnny wasn’t allowed to keep his weapons with him on the train, they were secured safely in the luggage car with the rest of their belongings.

Although Johnny had decided to keep his books with him. The lodge was almost half a day’s journey— even with the high speeds of the light trains. Usually the ride was spent sleeping or reading. Even his father refused to work on anything job related on these trips. It was a time to completely destress and get away from their every day lives.

They were maybe an hour out of Neo by the time his father had finally given in and fell asleep, head cradled against the window and snoring gently as his breath fogged the glass.

Trains always made Johnny anxious because of the accident and usually he himself took a pill that made him pass out for the entire ride but he figured ten years was long enough to hide from his fears. This year he’d stay sober for it prove to himself that he wasn’t that weak little boy anymore.

Instead, he found his nose buried in the herbiary to refresh his memories on some of the plants found in the forest because every year without fail, either he or his father would end up with some sort of rash from a poisonous plant and they’d spend no less than one day trying to figure out how to get rid of it.

“ _Mind you, while acorns might be fascinating little trinkets for the childlike mind, under no circumstances should you bring them into your home— lest you’ll find yourself welcoming in the tricksters of the fairfolk with no way to rid yourself of their pranks._ ”

Johnny had always found that odd— Seul kept acorns decorating her window sills in the shop, she said they were an oddity in the city as not many trees amidst the glass and concrete forest of the lower districts nor had any soil to sprout from in the higher ones.

She was definitely more on the superstitious side, so he always wondered why she broke that rule. Maybe she was looking to invite them in? She had asked him to leave a gift for them if he found another of their rings in the woods so maybe she was trying to attract them?

He still wasn’t even sure he believed in them, but he did find the prospect of them interesting at the very least. For century people had lived inside walled cities and were rarely allowed to venture out into the wilderness because it was deemed unsafe after the last great war.

Everyone was told that the fallout from chemical warfare still lingered, but Johnny himself had never seen anything that alluded to that. His father was of the ideology that the chemicals may have disappeared but had left irreversible mutations on much of the flora and fauna in the warzones and made the creatures that lurked beyond the walls more dangerous and deadlier than they were before the war which in turn lead to needing more powerful weapons to keep them under control.

Which was where his family had come into play. It was virtually impossible to see a single security officer or member of the armed forces without a gun designed by Jung Corp. The weapons harnessed the energy extracted from stones to fire a concentrated form of the energy in an explosive and volatile form that killed on impact.

Rather than bullets the guns were loaded with a magazine of stones that provided the energy and once the energy was sapped entirely from it, it simply disintegrated and moved onto the next one.

Johnny himself was very familiar with the mechanics of it— had been taught ever since he began his secondary education as a means to prepare him for inheriting the business. And while he thought it was useful, and maybe even necessary for the military at the very least to have these kinds of weapons, Johnny had wanted to take a much more peaceful approach.

He hated the idea of killing, hated wasting away the energy the stones provided for something base and cruel, and instead he put his mind to developing something he thought was more useful: bullets or arrows that rather than killed only stunned on impact.

His arrow heads were renewable and more sustainable as they didn’t ignite or combust the stone, upon impact with the target it sent a surge of energy into the body of the target that overwhelmed the system and forced a “shut down” type of effect. The arrow heads merely needed to be allowed time to recharge by burying them out for 24 hours under the sun and moon and were then as good as new.

If he thought so himself, he thought the design was ingenious, not suitable for war, but then again Johnny was a lover not a fighter and didn’t believe in war. Although his father wanted nothing to do with the idea, he wouldn’t have a say in the matter once Johnny had inherited the company and took it in the direction he wanted.

Before realizing it, sleep had overtaken him as well— luring him into a blissful state of rest as dawn began painting the horizons. There still were many hours yet until they reached their destination and still had a trek on horse back before they arrived to their lodge and Johnny allowed himself to sink in to the state of dreaming.

Allowed himself to be swallowed up in visions of gleaming gold and shimmering gemstones, and his favorite onyx and ash. Allowed his minds conjurations of creatures to dance behind his eyes and haunting music of flutes and violins to fill his ears with whispered chants in a foreign tongue he didn’t understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And thank you for all of the kind words left on the last chapter. Getting feedback literally makes me so happy. I cherish every comment and kudo. If you enjoyed please consider leaving a comment it would make my day.
> 
> If you have any questions on any of the world building please let me know I'll be happy to clarify. 
> 
> Didn't mean for Seulgi to be in this fic. Just needed a name for an important supporting character. Now she's my baby. And I would lay down my life for faerie Seulgi. 
> 
> [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_) | [ Curious Cat ](https://curiouscat.me/ttaeyongs_)


	3. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”It is when her pale beauty takes over the golden fire, our enemies tremble as the primal forces of our ancestors flows through our veins.”_

_February 9th, 2119  
_ _Palace of the Sun_   
  


A symphony of fiddles and pipes and flutes and violins echoed across the great hall along with a cacophony of voices, a sea of laughter carrying through gilded trees and sparking fruits that glowed in the floating firelight of candles suspended in midair.

For once, there were hardly any eyes on him, hardly anyone staring at him and whispering behind fingers covered in gaudy rings, sharing slander about the ashen freak that lived in the palace, raised beside the crown prince out of pity and treated like a bastard in the eyes of the court.

It hadn’t taken long for him to learn his place once the king had finally decided what to do with him, the living tithe of his enemy.

He was just starting to make himself comfortable in the dank cell he had woken up in after the king had put him to sleep. He had burrowed his way into a cozy little tree root that almost smelled like home to him. Seven Seasonal Cycles old and he was being forced to understand the world of grown-ups many cycles beyond him— most of which were several hundred older than him.

In his tree root he had even come to terms with the possibility this hellish nightmare would end in his death and he just had to be okay with that it wasn’t as if he could do much else than accept his fate.

Fat tears had rolled down his eyes that day and the many following, his heart ached to see his sister and his mother, longed to be with them both again, even if it was only to say a proper goodbye to them and see his home one more time— visit his father’s tomb one last time.

But instead days later, the roots retreated from him, dumping him in the dirt and ultimately freeing him from his prison and the blindingly brilliant King of the Court of the Sun himself had scooped him up like the childling he was and brought him up to the palace.

Of course it hadn’t been without stipulations in the form of commands bound to his very core by way of his name, “Taeyong Lee you will never leave this city unless commanded otherwise by name by the Ruler of The Court of the Sun” had been one of them. “Taeyong Lee, you will never physically, mentally, or emotionally harm anyone belonging to the Court of the Sun by means of hand, weapon or word,”was another. There had been so many placed on him that had they not been bound to his soul, he feared he’d have forgotten them all.

But in the end, it ultimately meant he was allowed to live— even against the Queen’s protests, allowed to be raised side by side with the crown prince almost as an equal. No matter how many times the Queen berated him and told him there should have been a public execution the morning he was brought there. 

And for the most part, Taeyong was okay with it, even if it meant being subject to the cruel whispers of the beautiful monsters he lived beside, even if it meant the queen going out of her way to ignore him or make him feel insignificant.

Since that night Spring bled into Summer, bled into Fall, blend into Winter six times over, and saw to Taeyong befriending the prince and finding solace in the home of one of the noble ladies of the court who while still clearly was one of them, was in appearance the closest to his kind he had ever seen in this place with her hair spun of the lightest gold and eyes as dark as fertile soil.

He felt less alone these days than he had when he first arrived.

At thirteen cycles, he was hidden in an alcove eating a perfectly ripened pear watching the Sunfolk dance and celebrate their beloved prince’s fourteenth cycle.

There was always a week long festival for the prince of nonstop dancing and singing and endless food, it was the same in the Court of the Moon for his sister and him, except the food was better there.

Everything in the Court of the Sun was too bitter for him. He longed for the honey wine and golden fruits of home, the fruit here was dry and bitter but glittered like jewels. The sapphire apples were the greatest offender in his opinion.

His thoughts had been broken when a warm body flitted towards him with unsteady wings and crooked hops.

 _He’s drunk_ , Taeyong thought. A tiny smile crossing his lips for a moment as a heavy head rested on his shoulders and hands clung to his tiny waist.

Maybe it was the alcohol that emboldened him, or maybe it was the way he could feel his mother’s cold emerald gaze burning holes into him, daring him to distance himself from the boy, but the prince found himself burying his face deep into the other’s neck— closer than necessary if only to spite his mother.

“Tae,” he whined, as he nuzzled playfully against the soft fabric of the other boy’s robes.

“Your Highness, what would your mother think if she saw you holding me like this?” Taeyong asked, mirth in his voice and not really caring about what the Queen thought.

“Y’ smell nice,” he mumbled back, voice muffled by Taeyong’s robes and skin.

Taeyong heaved a petulant sigh as he lifted his hands to rub the Prince’s back, mindful of the golden gossamer wings protruding from his back, freshly molten and iridescent in the candle light.

“Smell like _dirt_ and bergamot,” Taeyong had to pause for a moment, still not used to the dialect spoken here, before he registered that the word meant _earth_ in the Sunfolk dialect.

“You called me dirty in my dialect,” he sighed as he ran a clawed hand absently through the other’s soft hair.

The prince tensed up and pulled back to look into his eyes, glistening and wide with worry.

“I didn’t mean— Tae you’re not,” Taeyong’s chest bubbled up with laughter as he cupped the prince’s cheeks and rested their foreheads together for just a moment. He closed his eyes and took in the prince’s scent.

Honey and hyacinth with pine needles.

Deliciously sweet, and comforting to Taeyong who pulled back and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“I know, Your Highness, I know,” he breathed out gently, wanting to pull the prince into his alcove and hide away from the festivities with him even for a moment— instead he’d settle for a stolen moment sprinkled in.

“You don’t have to call me that when it’s just us,” he whined again, louder this time as he began to miss the warmth of the other, but rather than burrowing back against him the prince settled on draping his arms over either of Taeyong’s shoulders.

He rocked and swayed them gently to the music, hands idly playing with the rich velvet of the other’s cloak. His fingers skirted the hem of Taeyong’s hood before leaning his head back on the younger’s shoulder.

“It isn’t just us,” Taeyong pointed out, he looked up to meet eyes with the Queen. She was no doubt stewing with anger that her son was clinging to him so tightly.

He wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled the prince tighter to him, partly out of spite for the queen whose dagger gaze was still trained on him, and partly out of just wanting him closer.

“Well it should be just us—“ he huffed as he pulled back again and grabbed the smaller boy’s wrist tight in his little ring-clad hand and dragged him from the alcove.

The younger called out in protests that fell onto deaf ears as the prince whisked him across the great hall, dodging members of the court gracefully turning his movements into a dance as he pulled Taeyong close to him and twirled him through the throngs.

He knew it was useless to protest or fight back and just allowed the other to ragdoll him across the floor.

The prince’s smile was worth it.

He allowed himself to be led out of the hall and into the wide cavernous corridors of the palace— even after all these years the architecture seemed odd to him, so different from the underground tunnels and caves he grew up in, the tight spaces too small for most to walk through and forced many to crawl of find another way around. Sometimes it even caught him off guard that he could actually see where he was going with his eyes rather than by brushing his fingertips against the stony walls and listen to the whispers of the caves themselves, directing him to and from his destinations.

“Did you know it was almost night time, Tae?” The prince asked him quietly as he pulled him towards an outlet in a grand wall of windows. The glass was gleaming with the reflection of candlelight and was difficult to peer through with all the vines spidering their way across it from the outside.

Taeyong looked up at the sky seeing only the sun slowly fading and bringing forth the blackness that usually hailed the night, however when he searched for the moon he couldn’t find her. She was supposed to be somewhere around a crescent at this point— in the goat constellation he thought.

He shook his head gently finding it odd that he couldn’t see her— the new moon wasn’t due for a few more days. Perhaps they were looking at the wrong part of the sky, he wondered, and she had already moved from this vantage point.

And then it hit him.

It was Taeyong who grabbed the prince’s wrist this time and pulled him as fast as his little legs would carry him.

The prince was laughing hysterically behind him as Taeyong pulled down hallways and up marble staircases.

The palace was empty save for a few patrols of paladins. Many of which easily side stepped the two boys, allowing them to pass by without so much as a word.

After all, one was the crowned prince and the other might have been a prisoner but he was also favored by the king himself despite his heritage, who were they to interfere.

Taeyong couldn’t help his own laughter as the sound of his bare feet slapping against the stone steps and the constant flittering of the prince’s wing resonated off the otherwise silent walls.

It wasn’t long before Taeyong was pushing open the grand double glass doors leading to the balcony adjacent to the ceremonial throne room on the highest level of the palace. His heart was hammering in his throat and he leaned over panting to catch his breath.

“Tae! The moon!” he exclaimed, stealing Taeyong’s attention away from feeble attempts to catch his breath.

The other’s voice was full of wonder and fear as he continued to speak.

“It’s eating the sun!”

When Taeyong looked up to where the other was urging him to look, all he saw was a shimmering silver ring slowly getting smaller and smaller as the moon encroached on the sun.

“It’s not eating it,” he couldn’t help but stare in awe as he moved closer to the golden railing of the balcony as if it would help him get closer.

“It’s an eclipse!” his voice was full of reverent excitement as he climbed onto the railing, toes curling around the freezing metal edge to hold him in place.

The prince stared in awe at the younger man as his wings unfurled from under his cloak, shimmering silver in the pale light. The glow of the eclipse cast a lavender hue on the other’s normally white hair as his eyes began to glow a crimson red, like rubies ablaze with fire, in the dim light.

As the rays of the eclipse shined down, they cast a shadow at the ground, the prince saw his own but didn’t recognize the one beside him. It was tall and mimicked that of a fae— slender with wings, but coming from the top he was surprised to see antlers, that of a great stag.

He rubbed his eyes and looked again and stared in awe and disbelief before looking back up at the other. No antlers in sight on the other boy physically and he wondered what it meant.

He had always known eclipses had some kind of effect on the Court of the Moon and were a huge part of their culture— even down to the way they counted age, but Taeyong had never been allowed outside to see them since his imprisonment. He knew he had a strict curfew that never allowed for him to see the moon most nights and especially not the eclipses— solar or lunar.

The prince frowned, seeing how it made the other absolutely glow and look so happy for once, completely in his element as snow began to fall from the sky in puffy little flakes. He shivered and pulled his own cloak tighter becoming increasingly aware of the dropping temperature but not caring to go inside while Taeyong seemed so at ease— the complete opposite of how he behaved in court.

There, surrounded by people he knew hated him and didn’t bother hiding it, the young had high, impenetrable walls up and a stone cold façade that even some of the more seasoned paladins flinched when he turned his icy black gaze on them. Whether it was fear of the unknown— that Taeyong might hex them with his moon magick or from disgust, the prince didn’t know. He was only grateful that as he aged he developed a system that kept the hounds at bay.

Deeper yet he frowned when his eyes fell upon the shredded wing protruding crookedly from Taeyong’s left. Something in his chest caught as guilt washed over him knowing that it had somehow been his fault that the Queen saw to destroying it personally with her claws, despite Taeyong saying otherwise.

He had to shake the images his mind conjured up of his smaller friend laying helplessly on the floor in an oozing pool of his own black blood— images of how the delicate wing was nearly torn clean off his back. And even worse, the prince could hear the screams echoing in his mind and being forced to watch it happen. He still thought it was the most barbaric punishment in their flawed justice system— one he had vowed that day to abolish once he was king.

Letting his body take over to distract his mind, the prince found himself stumbling his way up onto the ledge, using his own wings to steady himself and regain his balance, alcohol still impairing his movements and thrumming through his veins.

Taeyong turned his head to watch him, a fond smile on his lips as he offered his hand to help him up and stabilize his wobbling limbs. Even sober, the prince was clumsy, Taeyong worried about the heights in his intoxicated state knowing he’d never be able to dive after the other to rescue him if he fell.

They stayed up there, watching as the moon gradually overtook the sun, Taeyong holding the prince’s hand tightly as he felt the rays of the moon and her energy dancing over his skin and absorbing into his veins. He felt stronger, energized.

He missed this, he missed the moon in her silver glory and the way her beams left him feeling powerful, maybe even hopeful. He could barely remember the lessons he’d learned back before all of this— when he still had a home.

” _It is when her pale beauty takes over the golden fire, our enemies tremble as the primal forces of our ancestors flows through our veins.”_ He vaguely recalled. He couldn’t be sure he remembered the forgotten tongue correctly but knew it referred to the solar eclipse where his powers waxed in the moonless sky when the sun disappeared.

He could feel the wild and untamed magick coursing through him as it revitalized him to his very center. Taeyong felt it in his very fingertips but knew not how to control it so he didn’t unleash it, even as it mounted higher and higher inside his veins.

The prince turned to him, eyes alight with wonder as he let go of the other’s and to wrap his own arm around the younger’s waist.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled against Taeyong’s shoulder.

Taeyong was caught off guard by the sudden movement, worried the other was going to fall but he moved to embrace the other back when he realized they weren’t in immediate danger and chose instead to focus on the boy beside him and push the magick to the back of his mind.

“You’re so beautiful, Tae,” and Taeyong’s heart hammered in his chest as he pulled the prince tighter to him. This felt so much more important to him than any silly lessons he had learned back at the Court of the Moon.

It was a rare compliment in this blinding land. He was so different from them that the queen never missed a chance to tell him he was ugly with his gangly limbs, sharply angled features and long knife-like ears twice as long as anyone from the Court of the Sun— never missed a chance to remind him of his courts curse for disobeying the gods.

Taeyong wasn’t sure how to actually take the foreign words but felt the flames of embarrassment creeping and warming his cheeks— like they did anytime the prince called him anything but his name.

“Your Highness,” he stuttered out, voice barely a whisper while he shifted uncomfortably in his arms.

 _He’s drunk_ , he had to remind himself to keep his emotions at bay and to justify why the prince was even spending so much time with him instead of being at his own feast, or why he was holding onto him so tightly when he had wings to steady himself with.

“ _Youngho_ , it’s just us, none of those frivolous titles,” the prince corrected him and Taeyong felt himself shrink into the other. Everything felt too intimate and confusing but comfortable and warm at the same time. He didn’t understand the way his heart stuttered or his hands ached to hold him tighter— even with the taller boy pressed so tight already.

“I shouldn’t call you that,” Taeyong whispered despite himself. He was unable to find his confidence enough to use his voice.

As if sensing the distress and painful memories no doubt drowning the younger inside of his brain, the prince— Youngho squeezed him tighter before tapping the smaller’s temple gently as if to say “no more of those thoughts” and spoke up after a moment.

“One day when I’m king, I’ll make sure she never hurts you again,” Youngho said with all the solemnity he could muster, pulling back to lock eyes with the younger boy.

Youngho’s hand ghosted over the other’s tattered wing, heart clenching again knowing Taeyong would never be able to experience the joy of flight— had it snatched away from him before he could ever even learn since Youngho’s own mother damaged the wing beyond repair when they were still freshly molted.

“Those words are dangerous,” Taeyong answered quietly. He didn’t doubt Youngho, but knew if the queen heard them she wouldn’t tolerate it would find some other way to make his life hell before then.

“It won’t matter because when I’m king she will have to answer to me,” he huffed indignantly. Taeyong smiled gently and cupped his cheeks.

“You are far too good to me, Youngho, and I have done nothing for you,” his smile took on a saddened tone, red eyes glistened in the light, filled with so many unspoken words.

“You have done so much for me, I can never repay you or make amends for the hell you’ve gone through because of me, and the politics of Court,” Youngho replied, voice barely above a whisper. He pulled Taeyong closer, erasing all space between them entirely and slotting their bodies together.

As the moon fully over took the sun and plunged them into darkness, Youngho cupped the younger’s face and sealed their lips together.

It was gentle and chaste, all lips and no teeth or tongue, but it had Taeyong shaking to his core and warmth spreading throughout his body, igniting something in his chest. His crooked wings fluttered behind him as he leaned in, one hand clutching the front of Youngho’s blue robes in a tiny fist— not wanting him to pull away. He was scared the other would feel him trembling or could hear the way his heart pounded but it did nothing to dull the thrum of adrenaline flooding his veins.

Nothing else existed in the moment other than the boy before him who gently carded his fingers through his hair and traced his long ears and made him feel like the most important person in the world. His heart was singing and nothing else mattered beside Youngho.

The kiss was too short, and Youngho regretted pulling away almost immediately.

Taeyong could taste the wine on his lips as he licked them tentatively. He couldn’t believe anything was real in the moment. He couldn’t fathom that someone like the prince would kiss him— would want to kiss him.

And yet there they were with tingling lips and nervous blushes refusing to look in each other’s eyes— too shy and anxious for the other’s reaction.

He didn’t know what he was doing— neither of them did, but they both knew they never wanted it to end, never wanted to separate from each other even as they both shifted nervously beside each other.

The alcohol had long begun to wear off on the prince but he kept up pretenses that it hadn’t just in case the other reacted badly— but all those thoughts left his mind the moment the younger stood on his toes and leaned in again, a little more aggressively this time— unsure of himself but still trying.

Youngho was stunned into silence— Taeyong could feel the other’s heart hammering where he clutched his robes again.

He wasn’t stunned because the other hadn’t shoved him away or left him alone but because he was kissing him this time, but because he felt a hesitant tongue probing against his lips.

It was new to Youngho as it was to Taeyong. Neither had experience, neither knew what they were doing but neither really seemed to mind. It was new it was exciting— it stirred up so many different emotions and feelings inside of them that they almost felt high on the moment.

He let Taeyong lead him, tasted the pear he had eaten earlier and the nectar he’d been sipping on and something he’d never tasted before— something unique to him. It was an odd sensation but he found he didn’t mind it— found he enjoyed it and wanted to try too.

Taeyong was startled as Youngho cupped his jaw once more, pulled him in to take advantage of the other’s hesitance. As he did so, he only succeeded in bumping their noses and knocking their foreheads together causing them to break the kiss and the prince to wobble slightly.

The younger boy rubbed his forehead gingerly and let out the softest giggle while the prince gaped— opening his mouth and closing it repeatedly unable to find the words to apologize for ruining the moment.

Wrinkling his nose, Taeyong looked up at the other only to pucker his lips playfully like he was blowing a kiss. He broke out into laughter at the other’s stunned silence and pulled him close into a tight hug.

This wrists encircled the prince’s shoulders as Taeyong’s head rested in the crook of his neck— face directed outwards towards the treetops below them and hummed contently.

“You kissed me through the whole eclipse,” he finally said softly, pulling back slightly to look at the other who still had yet to say anything.

In the growing daylight, Taeyong noted for the first time that the prince’s cheeks were rosy and flushed, embarrassed most probably.

He thought it was cute.

Youngho was never fully composed like his father— always wore his heart on his sleeve especially when it came to his soft spot for Taeyong. Everyone knew Taeyong was his closest friend, the only person the prince ever felt truly comfortable around and the only person Taeyong ever let his guard down with. The king even went as far as to say that Taeyong was good for him and he was good for Taeyong— even when the queen vehemently disagreed.

And here, under the growing light of the sun as the vibrant rays danced on his skin and made his honey brown eyes glow and golden wings sparkle, it was no different. The light illuminated the red hues of his cheeks and enhanced the array of emotions that swirled in his eyes— excitement, fear, nerves, love and everything in between.

“I didn’t mean—” his voice was panicked and Taeyong only held a finger to the other’s lips to hush him.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing, Youngho,” he said gently as if the boy in front of him was glass and would shatter if he said the wrong words.

To prove his point, Taeyong pressed one last kiss against the prince’s lips, soft and sweet, before pulling back.

“I-I like kissing you, Tae,” the other mumbled, still trying to find his courage once more.

“I like kissing you too.”

“What does this make us then?”

Taeyong hesitated. He didn’t know— he never kissed anyone before and had no idea if there was proper etiquette or follow ups to it.

“We’re just Youngho and Tae who just happen to like kissing each other, we don’t need a fancy name,” he finally answered. He didn’t know if it was the right answer and hoped the prince didn’t take it the wrong way and understood what he meant.

“Your Youngho and my Tae,” the prince replied.

Taeyong liked the sound of that.

“We should get back to the great hall before your mother send’s an army’s worth of paladins to find us,” Taeyong said after a pause. He hated to be the responsible one, hated that even when the prince made him feel wanted and cared for he still cowered at the mere thought of the queen who hated his very existence.

“Only if you kiss me once more,” the prince countered.

Taeyong huffed out an incredulous snort but quickly broke his annoyed façade and giggled at the prince’s antics.

“One more, but you have to promise me, the next chance we get we’ll sneak out to stargaze,” he bargained, the prince nodded once more before capturing the smaller boy’s lips one final time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was up faster than I expected and the chapters keep getting longer
> 
> Comments are so much appreciated. I would love to know your thoughts or if you’re enjoying it
> 
> [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_) | [ Curious Cat ](https://curiouscat.me/ttaeyongs_)


	4. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Summer snow, and winter heat, beware the fae with their sickly sweets— ensnared in rings a hyumes end they’ll surely greet.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// There is a detailed description of a panic attack towards the very beginning of the chapter. It starts around the time of Johnny reminiscing about his memories about his mother. Please take this into consideration when you read, I do not want anyone to be triggered by the content I post so please head the warning if it will upset you.

_July 21st, 2127_   
_Somewhere Beyond the Walls_

The sun was just raising to it’s zenith when Johnny was awoken by the train jolting to life once more after passengers had departed— probably in Weishin by now.

Across from him on the padded booth of the train car was his father, awake and scrolling through some magazine on his holophone. He couldn’t really make out what it was he was reading, but his eyes were focused, engrossed in whatever it was. If he really had to guess it was either something hunting related or a science journal on new energy sources he could capitalize on with his weapons.

Next to him, his own book sat upturned and opened. He winced at the way the already fragile spine was bent and made note not to mention it to Seul later or ever. Grimacing he picked it up, noting the pages were a little bent.

 _Kelpies_ , he mused, looking at the page it was open to a sketch of a grand stallion with thick seaweed sprouting from it’s head as a mane and the lower body of a fish. It was another page documenting creatures of fantasy and Johnny hummed thoughtfully before closing the book and turning to look out the window.

Scenery sped by almost faster than he could process it. The urban climate of Weishin disappearing in mere minutes as they departed the iron walls surrounding the city, giving way into fields of lush grass and trees on the horizon.

“It won’t be long now,” his dad spoke up across from him, closing out of whatever he had been reading.

“Once we breach the woods it’s only about on hour to the ranch where our horses should be waiting,” he explained, as if Johnny hadn’t been doing this every year since he could remember— which admittedly wasn’t far.

He had glimpses of memories of his mother, raising him in the penthouse and playing with him on rooftop gardens but those memories always seemed to be from an outsider’s perspective, but there was nothing really solid or concrete about those ones.

The only ones that felt _real_ to him began at the wreckage of the train that had caused his mother’s and so many other’s untimely deaths. They began with thick smoke flooding the train car and burning his lungs as he crawled through the corpses of other passengers towards a window on the roof of the over turned carriage.

The lifeless eyes and echoing screams were something that stayed with him even to this day— he saw them even when he closed his eyes and saw them in his hellish dreams.

His memories started there. Everything before didn’t seem real— the doctors and therapists told him that was a result of the mental trauma from the accident and would most likely stay with him for the rest of his life.

Ice cold fear began to settle deep in his stomach, turning it into a frozen pit holding him in place, immobilized as it began spreading through his veins with the force of an inferno igniting trees in a dry forest.

Clammy sweat formed on his brow and in his tightly wound fists, he could feel himself shaking suddenly feeling very trapped in the steel death trap he was currently confined to.

“John?” his dad called out, looking over to the younger man. Worry etched into his aging features as he watched his son pale visibly across from him.

“John, you’re okay, you’re safe,” he spoke calmly as he stood and crossed the short distance between them to take his son into his arms and held him tightly. He rubbed his back in gentle circles while instructing him through his breathing techniques to soothe and fear that was coursing through him. 

“Just focus on looking out the window, we’re nearly there,” he said quietly, adjusting them so his son was closer to the window.

When Johnny peered through the window he noticed that the were entering the forest, tall trees were becoming more dense and less sporadic as they passed by.

The sky was darkening around them, despite the it still being broad daylight. Vaguely he remembered checking the weather on his phone the other day— it was supposed to have been sunny all day with zero chance of rain, and yet as the train fully breached the forest he noticed puffy little flakes of white falling from the sky.

Just as unusual was how quick the window of his train car became coated in frost. It was dense and Johnny couldn’t see through it, the harder he looked the more he could only see the crystalline fractals of ice in their spiraling and infinite geometry.

The lights on the train flickered and Johnny felt panic well up inside him once more as they were plunged into complete darkness. The lights of the train flickered before going out completely. Around him he could hear other passengers shouting— confused by what was going on.

Johnny could swear he saw shadows dancing behind the frosted window and leaned closer towards it to get a better look— try to peer through the frozen glass. His attempts were useless as the ice just seemed to get more and more dense in mere moments.

From above, it sounded like footsteps danced across the roof of the car.

Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention and Johnny whipped his head around so fast it almost hurt. Their cab door had been opened and he could peer into the cab across the aisle from them and out the window.

Though it was still pitch black, he caught a glimpse of silver out the window— no frost in sight just a clear view of the forest beyond the iron walls of the train.

The silver shape seemed almost deer-like— like a giant buck or maybe even a stag and glowed radiant white in the dim light beyond the metal walls. He stared, mesmerized by it until it fully disappeared and behind him he could hear the scraping of something against the glass.

The sound sent shivers down his spine, it sounded like claws or a blade scraping against glass, carving something into the smooth surface— or worse trying to break through it.

His breath caught in his throat as he turned to his father to see his reaction only to notice for the first time the man was nowhere to be found. He must have slipped out to investigate— leaving Johnny entirely alone.

Around his neck, he could feel the smooth glossy claw and immediately rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger to calm himself down and still his racing heart. It only worked for a moment before the train began to shake and rattle.

Passengers were screaming all around him— shutting his eyes tightly and focusing on the yellow jade between his fingers was all Johnny could do to not plunge head first and relive the memories of the day his mother died.

And then it all stopped.

The lights flickered back on as the train stopped shaking and as Johnny opened his eyes he became face to face with a design scratched into the ice on the window.

Knotted intricately together and surrounded by a flower pattern reminiscent of lace— something he had heard Seul refer to as sacred geometry— was a star with seven points. It was something like he had never seen before. The design was so intricate Johnny couldn’t even fully grasp the concept it had been carved into the ice in under the three to four minutes the light had been out.

Staring into the shape, he didn’t know it’s meaning but something about it felt safe to him— made him feel protected.

Quickly, he pulled his backpack onto the seat beside him and rummaged through it in search of his leather journal and some kind of pen or marker to record the image with— he knew he was going to have to ask Seul about it. He wanted to understand it, wanted to know why even through that terrifying ordeal this symbol calmed his racing heart and seemed to replace the dark and painful memories with an airy light that brought peace to his very core.

There were so many intricacies to the design, he feared he’d never be able to draw it correctly and do it justice, but still he tried as best as he could and finally he managed to get the geometric pattern somewhat scribbled down, he began to work on the star.

Somewhere before, he knew he’d seen it but he couldn’t remember where. Maybe it was something in the book Seul had given him, or was something he had seen in her shop before. Johnny wasn’t sure but decided he had time to look into it later— he’d rather record the design in detail before it melted away forever.

As he started on drawing the knotted seven points of the star, he felt something odd float through him— blindingly bright lights, cloyingly sweet fragrances and warmth flooding through his veins. It settled in his stomach and while it seemed so foreign it still felt comfortable almost like home. Alongside the bright lights and saccharine scents were musky earth toned aromas and stolen moments of silvery moonlight— those felt even more like home.

Just as he was finishing up the drawing, his father entered the car once more. He made the final stroke of the star before glancing up at his father whose eyes were trained on the window.

When Johnny turned his gaze he noticed the frost was melting rapidly— destroying the star and its accompanying design. His heart sank but reminded himself he still had the drawing of it to look back at.

“The conductor said it was a freak ice storm that messed with electricity, the train is fine and we should be at our destination any minute now, come on and grab your things John,” he explained. Johnny wasn’t sure he accepted that explanation but he didn’t know what else to think. Johnny just simply nodded his head and reached for his bag to put both of his books away.

By the time they had departed the train, Johnny noticed that any ice or snow that had accumulated during the storm was gone. He still wasn’t sold on the idea that it had spontaneously started to snow— it was July and they weren’t far enough north nor were they in the mountains at a higher elevation where it might be possible.

He tried to push all of those thoughts from his head, none of it made sense and the more he tried to think about it the less sense it made. He sort of wished he had a way to contact Seul from out there— she always had answers to everything in that mystical way that always left Johnny with more questions than answers.

From the station they departed from, it wasn’t a far walk towards the ranch they boarded their horses at. Johnny had gathered his belongings and strapped his holster belt back into place and double checked that his bow was still attached and his arrows were undamaged during transport.

Beside him, his father prattled on about whatever mostly just making idle chatter with Johnny. More than likely it was his attempt at distracting Johnny from focusing on what had happened on the train and keep him from slipping into another panic attack which he was infinitely grateful for.

They may not see eye to eye on a lot of things, but he had never been outright cold to him even in the heat of their arguments his father had always been the first one to back down before he said something he could regret. Deep down, John figured it was because he felt guilty about being an absent parent in his childhood and not knowing how to step up to the plate after his mother died— it was clumsy and he didn’t always get it right but he tried hard to be better once it was just him.

Johnny really did value that and appreciate it.

But sometimes he just entirely missed the mark— though it was not entirely his own fault, some of it was Johnny’s inability to connect with him on a lot of things and his unwillingness to meet his father half way on certain topics.

In the near distance, Johnny could make out the shape of the ranch and quickened his pace— it was still early only a little after noon if he was to guess based on the sun’s position. Getting the lodge was the main thing on his mind at the moment.

Even if he’d slept the majority of their voyage by train, something about the events that took place within in past hour sapped the energy from his body and he just wanted to lay down in a comfortable bed— even if it was only for an hour or two before his father dragged him deeper into the woods for his hunting.

But before that could even happen he had to actually get to his bed first, which thankfully it was only a short ride by horseback from their current location and it wouldn’t be long before his wish could be granted.

The stable keeper was an elder man with wise eyes and a warm smile. He didn’t much leave his home these days and for the last few years it had been his stable hand who would receive them at the main gate leading to the ranch.

This year was no difference, waiting near the gate was the young man.

His skin was honeyed from working out in the sun long hours every day and his eyes were a brilliant shade of amber that always sparkled. Everything about him was bright and cheerful, especially his smile that could put even the sun to shame.

Johnny liked him and his sweet voice enough.

“Mr. Jung, Johnny,” he greeted brightly as he hopped down from his perch atop the tall fence. He landed with a startling and other worldly grace that Johnny could never replicate and stunned him every time.

“Nice to see you again, Donghyuck,” Johnny’s father spoke as he followed the boy through the gate.

“You too, sir,” he said without looking back. Donghyuck was abrupt in everything he did, almost like the pleasantries of the city didn’t reach this far out the walls. Johnny could feel his father’s eye twitch at the lack of reverence he was shown but he chocked it up to Donghyuck being Donghyuck.

Johnny wasn’t even sure where the nearest city was in relation to the town, and Donghyuck always lamented about never getting to hang around other people his age, just the old man he worked for.

It was one year that Johnny and Donghyuck had really connected when the weather had kept them over night at the ranch before being able to safely make it to their lodge. The forest paths had been too slick with mud, they had fear for the horses’ safety.

Johnny had offered to help Donghyuck in the stable that night, grooming the horses and feeding them their dinner when he’d found that Donghyuck really had no friends out here and that the old mad had adopted him when his parents died.

They had been casualties of the same train accident he had lost his mother to. Sharing their sorrows over a stolen bottle of hard apple cider in a mound of fresh hay as the storm raged on outside of the barn, Johnny had really gotten to know Donghyuck.

Every year since then he had always invited Donghyuck to their lodge to stay with them once he finished his chores— under the guise of helping them care for their horses since the maids and butlers were scared of the beasts and the two would lie awake at night and stargaze. Donghyuck would tell him folktales and legends about the stars, and Johnny would tell share his book from Seul with him.

Johnny rushed to catch up with the younger boy and slung his arm over his shoulders, laughing wildly at the petulant grunts the other made.

“I missed you!” Johnny said once he finally stopped laughing and Donghyuck finally stopped trying to swat him away.

“Yeah yeah,” he rolled his eyes before shoving Johnny and initiating a race to the barn with him.

It was about a quarter mile away and Johnny knew he’d be able to make it, but cast a worried look at his father who just gave his nod of approval before taking his son’s backpack for him.

Johnny took off like a shot, using his long legs to his advantage and caught up with the younger at about the half way point. He could feel the wind blowing through his hair and he felt a sense of freedom. Vaguely he wondered if this is what flying felt like, before pushing those thoughts from his mind and focused on pumping his arms faster in turn making his legs move faster.

Donghyuck seemed to have the same idea and every time Johnny pulled ahead, Donghyuck caught up with him, threatening to pass him up.

In a flurry of motion and a tangle of limbs, both Donghyuck and Johnny tumbled over the threshold into the barn together, laughing hysterically in between panting for breath. Neither was really sure who tripped first, but it was with a flail of limbs that they collided with the other until they had ended up in a heap on the floor.

Just a few feet away, Johnny could hear the braying of horses as they stomped inside their stalls impatiently. After the two caught their breath, Johnny hoisted the younger boy to his feet and led him towards the supply closet on the upper floor of the barn.

From up there, he could see the horses lined up on the right side of the barn. His eyes landed on a familiar chestnut mare with her blacks socks and a white star stretching across her forehead that usually hid behind her pale brown mane.

He felt a smile creeping up on his lips at the sight of her. Johnny regretted that he didn’t get to visit her often, but he knew Donghyuck loved her the most out of all the horses and spoiled her.

“How’s Dandelion been?” he asked as he grabbed a bucket full of brushes. Donghyuck grabbed his own bucket and the pair headed back downstairs towards their horses’ stalls. Johnny went to Dandelion immediately who knickered at him and stomped at the ground, happy to see him again.

“She’s been good. I’ve been taking her out for runs in the woods behind the stable,” he answered as he unlatched his own stall to a solid black mare. She was a little taller than Dandelion and stockier. Johnny had named her Star when he was younger and his dad just went with the name.

The two set to work brushing out both the mares, Johnny made sure to pat her belly and rub behind her ears. He noticed the intricate braids that Donghyuck had woven into her mane and smiled at the little ribbons he had tied in as well.

Dandelion in turn nuzzled him playfully and moved her head to where she wanted to be pet and Johnny of course followed suit and obliged her.

“Her braids look nice,” Johnny commented, calling over to Donghyuck who was brushing out Star.

“They suit her,” Donghyuck agreed.

“Where did you learn to braid like this?” Johnny asked as he played with the braids in his fingers and toyed with the silky ribbons.

Donghyuck deadpanned at him before sighing and opening his mouth to answer.

“When you live alone and your only companion is an old geezer who only talks about horses, you get lonely and creative,” Johnny chuckled in response as he finished brushing her out.

When both boys were done, they took their leads and guided them out of the stable and towards the posts just outside where they would have space to saddle them up.

Johnny’s dad was nearing them just as they tied their leads to the posts.

“Nice of you to join us, Father,” Johnny chuckled impishly— Donghyuck’s attitude already rubbing off on him. His father only smiled and set Johnny’s bag on the ground near his horse.

“You boys did this while you waited for me?” he asked, inspecting the horses and noting that they were both beautifully brushed— their silky coats gleamed in the sun.

“Yeah, they’re ready to be saddled up,” Donghyuck answered this time before disappearing into the barn. Johnny followed suit and followed him to the room where the saddles and bridles were housed, perfectly shined and shimmering with gilded gold accents.

Johnny glanced around the stable once more before grabbing his saddle and a strange thought popped into his mind.

Around him, he’d never once seen iron or steel used in the stable— both metals were staples in the city but everything here was bright polished silver, not a spec of iron in sight.

“Why don’t you use iron or steel here?” he blurted out without really thinking about it.

Donghyuck turned on his heel and gave him the blankest stare Johnny had ever seen— his face told him the answer should be obvious but Johnny just raised his eyebrow in question, expecting a verbal answer.

“What do they even teach you in Neo?” he asked huffing and shaking his head.

“Iron, and steel by extension, anger the forest spirits, it’s toxic to them, and the old man here doesn’t want to piss them off,” he answered. Johnny supposed he was just going to have to take that answer for what it was— a superstitious man living outside the city walls coming up with nonsense ways to appease the gods or whatever.

“Why do you care? Didn’t you tell me you’re allergic to iron anyways?” Donghyuck asked, stalking away with the saddle meant for Star. Johnny supposed he wasn’t really supposed to answer that and shrugged it off, following behind the younger.

Once the mares were saddled up, Johnny bid farewell to Donghyuck and extended his invite to come join them at their lodge whenever he was free. Donghyuck made a promise to make sure he’d be out there at least once before he had to return back to Neo and hugged Johnny telling him to be safe.

“The wolves are bigger this year than usual, just keep an eye out and make sure the horses are locked up tightly at night,” he warned. Johnny nodded seriously before mounting up and guiding Dandelion down the path leading to the main gate of the ranch.

Only about an hours ride away from the lodge if they took it slow. It had been a full year since Johnny was last in the saddle and didn’t want his first venture to end up leaving him sore for the next few days so he was perfectly content taking a slow ride to their destination.

They weren’t too far out from the ranch when Johnny heard something rustling in the trees behind them and Donghyuck’s warning rang in his mind and he shared a wary glance with his father who reached for the pistol he kept at his hip.

Johnny wasn’t sure it was necessary yet to pull out their weapons— it could have just been the wind or even some deer they had startled. They were still close to the ranch and usually the wolves didn’t wander too close during the day.

He calmed down after a few minutes of not hearing anything again, just the sound of their horses’ hooves trotting on the beaten earth path. With his heart stilled once again, he looked out into the forest beyond them.

It’s beauty never seemed to disappoint. It truly did live up to it’s name of the Emerald Grove. The grass and trees glimmered in the sunlight like sparkling green gemstones. It was beautiful, and Johnny wondered what it was like for Donghyuck to live here, to be able to visit the woods whenever he wanted to instead of being surrounded by walls of steel and towers of glass.

“We’re about halfway there,” his father commented as he lifted his watch and a 3D hologram map of the forest appeared before him, showing that there was only about roughly another half hour’s ride left and counting down the distance for them as they moved.

He could already hear his bed calling to him, warm and clean and cozy. He smiled contently at the thoughts as a cool breeze filtered through the trees and caused sunlight to dance on the forest floor.

“I could spend forever here,” he commented as he leaned back in the saddle, closing his eyes.

“It’s far too dangerous and there’s so few supplies that come out this way,” his father reminds him and Johnny thought to himself, “ _there’s no need to be a buzzkill_.”

Hardly any time passed before Johnny heard rustling in the trees and the sound of growling dogs, only moments before a wolf leapt out of the underbrush snapping it’s jaws at Dandelion’s feet.

The horse kicked behind her, landing a solid hoof straight at the wolf’s jaw before taking off into a frenzied gallop off the path.

He heard his father call out after him and a few gunshots moments later— as much as he hated hunting and killing for pleasure this situation was anything but and he prayed to whoever would listen that his father would survive the attack.

But Johnny didn’t have much time to worry as he felt himself shifting and sliding in the saddle as Dandelion wove in and out of the trees terrified. Nothing he did could pacify her and for the life of him he couldn’t remember the ways Donghyuck had told him how to calm a hysteric horse. All he could do was hold onto the reigns for dear life and squeeze his thighs against the saddle to keep himself from falling off and just ride it out.

He had his own map on him and wasn’t worried about finding his way back home, however he was worried that she would carry them into more danger as she continued running full speed. No longer could he hear the sounds of wolves of his father’s struggle and just hoped against hope that it meant he was safe.

The last thing Johnny wanted was to lose another parent.

His thoughts were shattered as Dandelion came to an immediate stop and reared onto her back feet, sending Johnny flying off her back and tumbling to the ground.

He landed square on his back with a solid thump, wind rushing straight from his lungs as pain seared up his back and his vision faded to black.

The last thing he registered was a shadow moving above him and words that were muffled and sounded foreign to him and then finally ice cold as he lost consciousness.

Johnny wasn’t sure how long he had been out— the sun was long faded from the sky and the moon was casting an eerie but magical glow onto the green leaves and tall grass in the forest below her dancing moonbeams.

The overwhelming scent of peppermint filled his nostrils as he came to his sense— it was powerful but not unpleasant but couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

Beside him, he was relieved to find Dandelion grazing on some grass, tail swishing contentedly.

“Stupid horse,” he mumbled grumpily. He didn’t mean it but he was annoyed that she had thrown him from her back.

Hesitantly, he moved to sit up bracing for pain and fearing for the worst— a broken limb of some kind, but found himself to be in no such pain, not even the slightest ache.

As he sat up, a crown of peppermint leaves fell from his head and landed in his lap, noticed a few more were pressed into his waist and lower back just below his shirt, held in place by some kind of thick salve that reeked of peppermint, rosemary and honey. Again, not unpleasant just over powering.

He felt the leafy patches stuck to his shoulders and hips too and wondered how they got there and who had taken care of him.

Thinking back on his herbiary, he remembered something about peppermint and rosemary being excellent herbs for reducing pain and inflammation— whoever had done this definitely knew their way around the forest herbs he mused.

Perhaps it had been Donghyuck, sent to find him at his father’s behest. He half expected the other boy to be sitting nearby on a log, waiting for him to wake up and scold him for getting thrown from a horse as gentle as Dandelion.

Except as he rose to his feet he didn’t see the aforementioned boy anywhere.

It was just he and Dandelion in a clearing in the woods illuminated by the light of the moon. He glanced around for any sign of his healer and saw only boulders and trees and tall grass with a tiny clear stream babbling nearby.

Johnny furrowed his brows and sighed, instead of trying to find his silent savior, he decided to work on removing the sticky sweet leaves from his body.

He was partway through his task when his eyes caught on something white and powdery on the ground and followed it with his eyes as his panic mounted higher and higher as he realized there— encircling him was a perfect ring of snow and toadstools.

His panic mounted higher and higher until he doubled over, nearly certain he was going to vomit all over the place with worry.

Surrounding him was a so called “Faerie Ring” though his book never mentioned them being made of snow—

“ _Summer snow, and winter heat, beware the fae with their sickly sweets— ensnared in rings a_ hyumes _end they’ll surely greet._ ”

Words played quietly through Johnny’s mind— they weren’t words from Seul’s book but they stuck with him and felt familiar. He didn’t know where he’d heard them before but they surely didn’t bring him any comfort.

As if the universe sensed the forbidden words on the tip of Johnny’s tongue, “How much worse can this get?” he snapped his head around as he heard more rustling in the bushes.

Here in a ring of snow, in the middle of the Emerald Grove, Johnny was sure he was about to die.

And yet, a silvery stag emerged from the bushes, wide and knowing eyes boring straight into his. It’s head bowed slightly at him and Johnny was hit with a wave of recognition.

Every year since Johnny could remember his father had always taken him deep into the woods to hunt down an elusive white stag— Seul had always called it the Wild Hunt. A stag from legend that could never be caught or killed and only drove men mad with obsession until their own untimely demise.

Johnny had seen the stag many times in the past— always lurking just outside his father’s range of perception and Johnny never daring to give it’s location away.

Here it stood before him, taking ginger steps in his direction, breaching the ring of snow and toadstools.

Gently he nudged Johnny with his horns, beckoning him to move. He kept doing so each step Johnny made until he was outside of the ring.

The great stag bowed his head to the floor before Johnny.

“T-thank you, I think?” Johnny finally managed to stutter out at the creature who merely lifted it’s head. Johnny wanted to reach out and stroke it’s massive head but thought better of it— he was still a wild creature, unpredictable and powerful. Just because it was no wolf did not mean it could not kill him.

The stag turned tail and bounded away into the woods and out of sight.

Johnny stood in stunned silence, unsure of what to make of the entire situation. On the one hand he was alive— he survived a pack of wolves and being thrown from his horse and whatever the hell that was with the stag and faerie ring.

His heart was racing and all he really wanted was to get to the lodge before anything else happened.

Johnny cast one last look around at the clearing.

His eyes fell on the ring of snow and felt something in his chest stir. The golden bangle in his pocket felt heavy and almost burned against his side as he became acutely aware of his promise to Seul.

It may not have been like any faerie ring he had seen in her library of books, but that didn’t make it any less magickal, he thought as he fished out the golden ring and knelt on the ground beside the snow.

“I know your kind to be most benevolent when you see fit and this is a kindness I will not forget,” he called out into the empty woods, remembering how Seul had once said to never utter the words “thank you” to a faerie. Johnny wasn’t really sure why, but in the case he really had been healed by one of these creatures or lore he didn’t wish to offend them with his human words and actions.

It felt wrong to just leave Seul’s offering as it wasn’t from him and ran through a mental checklist of valuables he had with him. Most of them were back home in Neo, but he thought to the silver chain his yellow jade bear claw hung from. It wasn’t gold but it was valuable and meaningful to him and hoped it would be enough.

He removed the chain and placed it beside the golden bangle and rose to his feet once more, satisfied with the offering and thankful that he had escaped this whole ordeal in one piece and without even so much as a bruise.

Dandelion was grazing peacefully at the base of a great tree on the edge of the clearing, oblivious to all that had happened. He also noted that whoever it was that had taken care of him had seen to tying her lead to an arched and hollowed root. He knew he shouldn’t say thank you to a faerie, but he couldn’t help thinking the words anyways— they had truly looked out for him and regardless of if they sought out a debt with him, he felt he still owed it more.

As he bent down to untie her lead, he couldn’t help but notice the acorns sitting next to the root. Something told him bringing them home wasn’t a good idea, but he reasoned that tiny voice that they would be a good gift for Seul— she had dozens of them littering the window ledges and counter tops of her store. A few more wouldn’t hurt and he knew she’d appreciate them greatly.

Quickly he stuffed them into the pocket of his holster belt, and finished untying Dandelion. It was well past time for him to get home and with the moon so high in the sky, he didn’t even want to think about what time it might be.

As he pulled out his phone to pull up his own 3D rendered map, he noticed multiple missed calls and messages from his father, rather than shooting a quick message back to him, he figured it would be easiest to just call him while he rode.

Almost immediately after dialing his father answered.

” _John! Thank the gods, are you alright? Where are you? Should I send someone?”_ his father was frantic, and he couldn’t even blame him— he would have been worried sick too had their roles been reversed.

“I’m fine, father. Dandelion and I ended up getting lost in a patch were I couldn’t get service with the phone, but I found some now and it shows we’re not far from the lodge at all, we should be back in fifteen minutes,” he explained. It was a lie, but he didn’t need his father worrying that he had hit his head and rushing him back home so soon. He’d be fine, he fully believed that whoever had helped him had fully healed his wounds.

“ _I’m so relieved to hear your voice son, come back in one piece, I’ll be waiting up for you_ ,” he said through the phone and Johnny could just tell he had been crying— though he would never admit it.

The ride home was uneventful, thankfully, and Johnny had exchanged pleasantries with his father and the maids, but insisted he go straight to bed. He was exhausted after his day and just wanted to take a quick shower and sleep the stress away.

Once he emerged from the in-suite shower, Johnny began to unpack his belongings quickly. The books went on the desk in the corner and the acorns, he thought carefully what to do with them. They were an interesting little piece of décor and he decided they would sit on his window ledges like Seul’s did.

Finally, Johnny was able to sink into his mattress and let the stress of the day fade away as he let sleep take him over once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So wow. this chapter is a whole 2k longer than the previous chapter. It's long and there's bits I'm not too happy with but there's a LOT going on here. 
> 
> as a side note, a disclaimer of sorts: I am including a lot of celtic mythology in this fic (if it wasn't obvious) however I am renaming certain aspects in this au to make it more accessible to people who are not familiar with it and i am taking creative liberties in some aspects so with all that being said, please don't take this is 100% concrete celtic mythology and folklore, but do understand that much of the inspiration for this fic is drawn from there!
> 
> Also: In case anyone was wondering why I included the bit about not saying "thank you" to faeries, it's because their moral system is vastly different from that of humans. Faeries actually get quite offended when being thanked because it puts an owed debt into their benevolent deeds in their eyes. Their view is that the rather than them doing it out of the good of their hearts, the person believes they're performing good deeds with a reward seeking motive!
> 
> My long windedness aside, I would absolutely adore it if you left comments and told me what you did or didn't like or what you find most interesting
> 
> [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_) | [ Curious Cat ](https://curiouscat.me/ttaeyongs_)


	5. Chapter IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Something lost is something gained, remember this and survive you might, the Kelpie’s game,”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is even longer than the last one. I'm sorry. I keep getting carried away because I love this story so much, and I really hope you like it too. It's very dear to me and touches on a lot of things I'm really passionate about. 
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter.

_August 13th, 2117_   
_The Woods beyond the City of Sun_

Sunlight streamed down from up above, casting golden rays to the forest below and shimmered across the clear surface of a crystal clear lake— giving the illusion of the rolling waves being made of diamonds.

Taeyong squinted, eyes taking far too long to adjust to the blinding light. Even after living among the Sunfolk for six Cycles now his eyes still couldn’t handle direct sunlight— they still felt like they were burning the more he tried to look.

He tugged his hood further down his eyes to try to block the sun out better and ease the pain however his efforts had very little effect shielding him from the reflections beaming up from the edge of the water.

Sometimes he hated that the prince and his friends only ever wanted to go out in broad daylight but he couldn’t fully fault him— Taeyong was the only nocturnal creature in the entirety of Court after all.

Beside himself, he heard the prince rustling his clothes and moments later his hood was being peeled back from his eyes, exposing him entirely to the sun.

Taeyong hissed in pain and moved to snatch it back over his eyes but Youngho swatted his hands away as the younger flailed blindly trying to protect his eyes again. He swore he could hear one of the other kids, Sol, laugh at his misery.

“Tae, hold still,” he admonished, catching his friend’s wrists in one hand and holding them above his head. The smaller boy still struggled in pain and anger.

“It burns you bastard, let go,” he cried out as he screwed his eyes tightly shut to try and lessen the pain, only to be rewarded for pain to blossom at the back of his knee. He stumbled forward, fresh wings flittering to maintain his balance as he grappled for anything in front of him to catch himself, when ended up being the thin gauzy material of the prince’s shirt.

His back ached at the clumsy flutters of his wings— skin still tender and healing from then they had broken through his flesh a mere five days before. He’d been bed ridden since as his skin cracked and peeled to give way for his wings to emerge— this had been his first day leaving his bed since his molting had begun and the wounds had only just begun to heal.

In truth he probably should have been in bed another three days to allow the wounds to close but of course the queen had insisted he’d lazed around too long as it was and couldn’t spend another minute in bed while everyone else was still doing their fair share of work around the palace.

“The only bastard here is you, Caveling,” Sol sneered at him, the other boy they were with laughed and egged Sol on.

The words cut deep and his wings flicked in a hurt anger—back burning in pain and he could feel his cheeks burning with humiliation. He wanted to lunge at him and claw at his perfectly dimpled cheeks, wanted to take a fist full of mud and fling it at the pompous boy’s shining sapphire locks— only stopped by the binding command of the king from all those years ago.

“Look at his little wings,” Sol continued, laughing at Taeyong’s pathetic attempts at using his wings to appear bigger.

“Didn’t your mother teach you how to use them?” his laugh was mean and he found pleasure in the hurt that twisted on the smaller boy’s face as he stared helplessly— unable to counter attack unable to say or do anything. Words were on the tip of his tongue as his hands balled into tiny fists, claws digging into the soft flesh of his palms, powerless. He wanted to cry out in frustration but only held it in as a stubborn refusal to let the other see his affects on him.

Sol continued, “Oh wait! She abandoned you, gave you away because—"

“You will not speak to Tae that way in my presence,” Youngho’s voice was firm and commanding as he cut Sol off. Even at the young age of thirteen, Youngho was a force to be reckoned with— he had truly inherited the ferocity of the Golden Bear.

The other two boys immediately ceased their jeering, afraid of the prince, and lost interest in Taeyong for now.

Seconds later, Taeyong felt silky cloth draped over his eyes, sliding across his eyes smooth and gentle like running water. The fabric tightened around him and bunched his hair as he began tying it in place.

“I should have warned you first,” Youngho acknowledged his mistake as he tightened the bow at the back of his head and pulled the boy’s hood back up for him once he was finished.

“You should have,” he agreed indignantly as he rubbed his eyes gently, pain finally subsiding some as he was shielded once more from the sun.

When he opened his eyes again he found that the navy fabric was opaque enough to filter the light out but transparent enough for him to still see through. He was content for now, so long as no one else tried to rip it from his eyes.

He looked back at the prince and laughed gently when he noticed his shirt was untucked and billowed out around him taking away any shape the older boy’s torso may have had. He imagined the way the queen would scold him for being so disheveled— “a prince must never have even a lock of hair misplaced,” or something like that, Taeyong mused.

“I hope you don’t mind that it’s my belt,” he scratched the back of his head sheepishly and laughed along with Taeyong.

“It’s fine, your gracious deed is not unnoticed, Your Highness” Taeyong replied in appreciation, as he bent at the waist to bow— mindful of titles and manner in front of the other two boys who would no doubt go on to tattle to the queen about him should he not follow every last rule of etiquette.

Youngho was always doing things like that for him and while he appreciated them he never understood why— but he never failed to make Taeyong smile whenever he made these gestures or make his heart flutter. Even with the entire court against him, he knew he could count on the prince to care for him and treat him as an equal.

“I’m bored,” Sol complained as he picked up a smooth glossy stone and threw it into the lake. His wings fluttered behind him as he used them to pull himself into the air and fly over to the surface of the water, watching how far his stone skipped.

“I am too, can we please go do something? Hunt? Climb trees? Something?” the other boy whined as he looked beyond to the left of the lake to a grove of trees.

“Go ahead if you must,” Youngho started as he sat down a few feet away from the water’s edge.

“I just want to lay here a while,” he continued, letting himself get comfortable— not caring if the ground was damp with mud and his clothing would get dirty.

That was the thing about the prince— he moved at his own pace, did what he wanted even if it didn’t necessarily match his royal image. He had such a relaxed but commanding aura around him, lazy but determined, all things that seemed to contradict themselves, but somehow the prince made it work for him.

That was one of the things that Taeyong liked the most about Youngho— he also didn’t take orders from anyone and never hesitated to stand up for himself and those he cared about, even if it meant coming to Taeyong’s own defense against his mother. Taeyong appreciated it, especially when he felt so alone in a sea of blood sucking piranhas that wouldn’t hesitate to eat him alive if given the order. 

“Suit yourself,” Sol called out, already with his back turned and putting distance between he and the prince, the other boy not far behind him.

Youngho grabbed at Taeyong’s sleeve once the other boys were far enough away and tugged at him to sit down so they were facing the glittering body of water. The smaller boy sunk to the ground with not so much as a complaint— thankful the other two boys were out of his hair for the time being and he could finally relax.

Taeyong made quick work of his boots, unlacing them to halfway from the top and freeing his legs from the knees down of their restrictive confines. He wiggled his toes before burying them in the mud, feeling the cool earth between them and soothing them. He then set to untying the draw strings on either side of his pant legs just below the knees as well.

The fabric wasn’t heavy or restricting, but the sun was so hot and being clad in mostly black at the apex of the Sun Season was starting to take its toll on him. He wished he could do something about the thick material of his shirt but had to settle for unbuttoning the collar. Nothing else could really be done to alleviate him as it was double breasted, much to his annoyance.

The king still insisted he dress the part of a prince even if he no longer held the title and thus forced him into stiff tunics and double breasted waist coats like this for appearances sake. He was at the very least allowed to still dress in the colors of his family— black silver and pale green, however he had to trade the Stag of the Wild Hunt, his house’s crest, to that of the Golden Bear of the House Seo, even if he was never acknowledged as a Bear.

Just as he wiggled himself to get comfortable, a strong breeze blew in from off from the lake carrying with it a gentle mist that dusted his cheeks as the wind blew the hood from his head once more, though thankfully this time his eyes were still protected.

On it, the breeze carried aromas of the wildflowers and herbs that grew near the edge of the lake sweet and enticing, as well as the tangy scent of mud and lake water. However hidden deep in the layers of the multitude of smells was something else that lingered, something almost sinister that made his brow furrow as he tried to pick it out alone and decipher its origin. It was familiar to him and he knew he’d encountered it before but was unable to place it this time.

“Hey Tae?” the prince finally spoke up, breaking his train of thoughts.

“Yes, Your Highness?” Taeyong asked, the title rolling off his tongue before he could help himself. Though he was mildly distracted by all the scents around him, still he turned his head to face the other boy.

Through his blindfold he could see Youngho’s hair blown back by the wind as another gust danced over them, fluttering his shirt in the breeze. Beside him, his own boots discarded and thrown off to the side.

“Do you ever miss your old home?” His voice was gentle, tentative, as if not knowing how the other might react.

Taeyong snorted and thought about answering, thought about how he could even begin to explain the complexities of his sentiments and emotions in a way that he didn’t think he’d ever be able to express in words.

Youngho stared at him, eyes wide in question— almost begging him for an answer.

The smaller boy heaved a sigh before laying back completely, the coolness of the mud seeping through the layers of his clothing and soothing his aching back.

He shut his eyes and began trying to organize his thoughts. Speaking freely in front of Youngho was as easy as it was difficult in the sense that he knew the other would never judge but was unable to speak entirely true because certain sentiments would emotionally harm the other— something his binding commands denied him, not that he’d ever _want_ to harm him.

Just the knowledge alone that his thoughts or feelings would cause the prince distress made his heart twist and always made him second guess his own emotions. The other members of the court he didn’t care about— not the king or the nobles and their bratty offspring, and especially not the queen, but Youngho was different.

Aside from the king, no one else had showed him kindness since his arrival, and even the king still kept him at a distance, never truly treated him as a son or took his feelings into account when he made decisions concerning him.

It was only Youngho who ever stood up for him, stood up _with_ him. He supported all the passive ways Taeyong would antagonize the queen, went along with his stupid ideas that he knew would end in the queen’s ire. He treated Taeyong like a person, rather than some prisoner meant to scorn. Maybe it was foolish to trust a cub in a den of bears, but with his whole self he trusted the prince.

Youngho hesitated, taking a deep breath, he was young but could sense the turmoil behind the other boy’s thoughts, always had been in tune with the emotions the other boy experienced but could never express.

He hated this the most, and yet the words slipped out carelessly.

“Taeyong Lee,” his words caught as he saw the other boy’s face twist in shock and initial horror and Youngho began to rethink his next words. The command had already begun and whatever he said next would be bound forever to the other boy and the weight of that realization hit him like a ton of bricks for the first time— the amount of power he had over the other boy just by knowing his name.

His mouth tasted like ash suddenly, disgusted that he had even thought this was a good idea especially when he saw the younger boy peel off his blindfold to look the prince in the eye. All he saw was trust in the deep pools of Taeyong’s eyes— he felt it stabbing at his heart as the younger reached for his arm and held it gingerly. Was it in fear? Was he encouraging the other?

Long ago, Taeyong had resigned his fate to following the commands of the King. His mother had given up his name so easily to an enemy and there was nothing he could do about it.

However, with Youngho it had been different.

No one had given his name to the prince against his will. He alone had given it of his own free will, trusting the other to never use it to hurt him, knowing the other would never burn that trust and it would never blow up in his face because Youngho respected him. And maybe that was the foolish ideations of a boy only thirteen cycles old, and he couldn’t fully comprehend the weight of his actions, but it didn’t shake the trust he had in the other.

With a nervous breath, he continued, “You need not hold your tongue with me even should the words cause me harm of any form, speak and feel freely to me if you so choose.”

Youngho prayed to the sun those were the right words, that they would help free the younger boy from the mental prison his father had trapped him in. He knew better than to break the commands entirely— even if he so desperately wanted to, but hoped this had been enough.

Taeyong stayed silent for a long while, trying to process what he had just been told— commands never ended with free choice, especially not the ones given to him. And yet for once the prince gave him his own free will. It was near impossible for him to wrap his head around, but he spoke anyways, choosing not to dwell on it too much right now and instead to answer the prince’s question which had prompted this in the first place.

“I have no home, Youngho, neither there nor here, I hate it here but I cannot leave, and if I could, I’d never be welcomed back within the Court of the Moon, I know these words hurt you,” his voice was unsteady as finally he let all of his emotions catch up to him— ones he had been forced to suppress and could never voice to anyone before. But Youngho had given him the power to finally, finally, let them out and even if it were taboo, he felt indebted to the prince.

“These words aren’t directed to you, I do not hate you, I could never hate you,” Taeyong continued, too scared to look into the other’s eyes, as if in doing so he would break the other.

His eyes burned hot from the sun and he felt water gather in them along his eyelashes. He wanted to pretend it was merely from the searing hot pain from the sun but he knew better.

“In truth, Youngho, even if this place is hell, you make it bearable, and I am forever grateful to have you in my life,” he finished, pulling his arm away from the other as tears still danced inside his eyes. He turned his head away to pull the blindfold back over them and shield him once more from the sun and Youngho’s worried gaze should he notice the tears.

Youngho let those words wash over him and felt a smile tug at his lips. Taeyong’s honesty was refreshing in a sea of mild nonaswers and noncommittal agreements. Before he could even stop himself he had pulled Taeyong against him, hugging the tiny boy tight in his arms. Against his neck he could feel the damp cloth of the belt over the smaller boy’s eyes and his heart gave a tug unsure if they meant the other was in pain or relieved.

Moments later the other boy whimpered in pain as he squeezed too tightly, Youngho let go of him so fast as if touching him might burn. The boy before him was fragile and small with his glassy eyes and flushed skin and in pain because of his new wings.

Silvery shining wings that sparkled in the sunlight and made the other boy absolutely glow. He was envious— everyone he knew were gaining their wings so why hadn’t he yet?

“I didn’t mean to command you— I have no right to restrict your freedoms like that,” the young prince finally sputtered out as his actions caught up to him. He reached his hand up to cup the younger boy’s cheek. One hand reached up towards a little silver moon pierced through a narrow portion of one of Taeyong’s pointed ears.

It had been a present from the prince for his twelfth naming ceremony. His were never actually formally celebrated in the Court of the Sun, but Youngho had insisted on giving gifts every year once he learned what day it fell on. The silver moon had been last cycle’s gift, and the way Taeyong’s face lit up seeing it only spurred the prince to do even better in the future if it meant he could see Taeyong smile like that once more.

In the Court of the Sun everything was golden and sparkling, emblazoned with suns and clouds. Moons were taboo there, and Taeyong knew obtaining something in silver _and_ shaped like a moon had been no easy feat. He cherished the little bar with the dangling moon on it and wore it every day— especially if he knew he’d be in the presence of the queen.

It had been one of Youngho’s favorite acts of defiance against his mother, and it never failed to bring a smile to his face when she glowered in disdain at the offending piece of jewelry.

“You granted me freedom, Youngho,” he replied between sniffles as he dabbed at his eyes through the silky cloth covering them, leaning his head into the other boy’s palms. A gentle smile tugged at his lips when he felt the other roll the moon through his fingers.

“How could I ever be angry at you for giving me a safe place to voice everything I have to keep inside?” Youngho smiled and pulled the smaller boy into his side. Taeyong used the opportunity to bury his eyes in the other’s shoulder, to further shield him from the painfully bright sun.

Above, Youngho watched the clouds drift by in the sky, he prattled on about the different shapes and trying to make sense of them. His tutor had called it Nepheloomancy, or divination by way of clouds and had told him it was a tool he’d need to understand as king. To predict the future and interpret the past and present.

He wasn’t very interested in it, but if she said it was necessary, he decided he’d learn it— begrudgingly.

His main draw to wanting to understand had been when she explained to him it was an ancient art since before the split of the courts, and he so desperately wanted to understand a time of peace between all manner of folk.

Taeyong told him it was stupid, clouds were clouds and they couldn’t tell you anything aside from when they were going to open up and dump rain water or snow on you. Youngho kind of had the same sentiment.

Beside him, he felt the other’s breathing even out as he drifted off to sleep. Youngho couldn’t help but smile, by nature he still preferred to sleep the day away and be awake all hours of the night. Youngho wasn’t entirely sure what Taeyong got up to at night if he were being entirely honest. Not a single creature at court was awake when the moon was beginning her descent aside from the sole Child of the Moon.

Sometimes he woke in the morning to his entire room rearranged and a sleepy Taeyong curled up in velvety duvets and down filled pillows in a nest under his bed. Other times he awoke to paintings scribbled on parchment on his nightstand and scattered on the floor, usually they were moons or obscure symbols that even Youngho himself couldn’t decipher or sacred geometrical designs.

Other times, if he awoke early enough he’d find Taeyong perched on the marble balcony outside his room, feet swaying in the wind as he watched the moon disappear on the horizon and spoke to it in words he didn’t understand while he scribbled words in his journal that Youngho couldn’t read. They weren’t the common tongue and they weren’t words of the Court of the Moon— Taeyong said it was the language of the moon and stars, whatever that meant, the prince didn’t know and Taeyong never provided an explanation beyond that.

Youngho found himself falling asleep amidst the tall grass and misty lake wind with the sun beaming down and warming him with her gentle rays and Taeyong’s cooler body pressed into his side soothing him alongside the breeze.

Like this, the young prince felt he could live forever. Carefree with his closest friend by his side and nothing but the sun and wind. He knew it was foolish to think such things but a perfect life for him was isolated from the kingdom, isolated in nature with only the people he cared most about.

He was jolted awake by shouting followed by a loud splash of water and a shriek. Youngho felt the ground beside him and felt Taeyong was not to be found. His head shot in the direction of the lake and saw Sol hovering above the edge of it, their other friend just off to the side, ankle deep in the water— feet away from where the prince saw Taeyong disappearing under.

“What the hell, Sol?” Youngho called out to him seeing tracks in the mud where Taeyong had been dragged and put up a struggle.

“The dumb Caveling was trying to tell us it’s a kelpie’s lake,” he laughed as he conjured up a gust of wind that pushed Taeyong back in the water just as he’d managed to find his footing.

“Thought I’d show him that there are no kelpies this far into the Kingdom of Light,” he continued in faux innocence as he landed himself safe from the water’s edge.

“Knock it off,” Youngho commanded as he stomped over to the water, feet sinking into the mud as he stepped into the shallow edge— cranky from being woken from his nap so suddenly.

“Yeah yeah, it’s all in good fun, My Prince,” the other boy retorted, rolling his eyes now that Youngho had come to spoil their fun.

“The _Caveling_ has a name and you’ll address him by it,” Youngho spat angrily at the two boys. Sol just rolled his eyes as he stalked off with the other boy in toe.

Taeyong was absolutely soaked— white hair was matted to his forehead and his cloak had gathered lake weeds in the hood, a bright green contrast to the silky black material. His face was full of anger as he coughed and sputtered up water.

The prince extended his arm to him to help pull him up, face softening and breaking into a tiny smile he tried to hide when he noticed a frog situated in the younger’s hair. He didn’t think Taeyong would appreciate his amusement at the given moment as he struggled to pull himself upright.

Youngho hoisted him to his feet and with a gentle hand on the other boy’s back guided him slowly through the water and towards the sloping shore.

Just as Taeyong’s feet reached dry land his head whipped around to the sound of bubbling. Black eyes widened in horror as behind the other boy a great black stallion emerged from the water— mane nothing but green lake weed and algae.

“Youngho—!” he cried out as the snapping teeth of the stallion pulled at the cloak around the prince’s neck.

With a shriek from the prince and a sickening splash, Youngho disappeared under the water in flailing limbs. All that could be seen was the golden leaf circlet that caught on a lily pad and the tail of a great fish disappearing into the depths.

Taeyong’s heart caught in his throat and his chest constricted as he stared in shock, unable to breathe as Youngho was disappearing further and further down to wherever the kelpie hid its den.

Behind him he heard Sol and their other companion shouting curses at him, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying, too preoccupied with pulling off his cloak and unbuttoning the twelve buttons lining both sides of his jacket— casting them aside to wherever they might land before plunging himself head first into the water near where the prince had disappeared.

The thin cotton of his undershirt clung to his torso but thankfully didn’t restrict his movement as he dove deeper and deeper. With his blindfold on he couldn’t see anything in the murky water and moved to take it off when he felt the water part behind him as something moved passed him quickly.

He turned around as the blindfold fell from his eyes and floated in the water near by him.

Down there, his eyes were much more suited for the dark depths and he concentrated on his breath— having grown underground in caves half submerged in water he had a larger lung capacity, but that didn’t mean the prince did.

Taeyong knew he had to find him fast before the other ran out of breath.

To his right he saw movement— a black stallion with glowing red eyes and a fish’s tail and he took off as fast as he could, plunging deeper and deeper.

 _You’re persistent_ , the words echoed in his head and it startled him for just a moment. The words hung in his mind and he felt some kind of magickal tether to them and carefully he reached for it with his mind, unsure if it would work two ways.

 _Please, Kelpie, he’s not for you,_ Taeyong pleaded, hoping the creature would hear him as he followed after to the bottom of the lake floor.

 _And is he for you, Moonchild?_ The creature disappeared into a cave. He knew the risks of diving into an unfamiliar cave, but Youngho was too important to abandon. He only hoped he hadn’t forgotten the song of the caves— or that the song was different in the Kingdom of Light.

 _Yes_ , He answered without hesitation as he reached his hand out to the wall of the cave, feeling the rough surface dance across his skin.

Taeyong’s lungs began to burn— they had lost capacity in his time away from the water and just as he was beginning to feel hopeless, an image flashed in his mind, a tunnel that led to a pocket of air beneath the surface and felt the cave guide him in the direction he needed to go.

He didn’t want to leave Youngho longer than necessary with the kelpie but he’d be of no use rescuing him if he himself drowned first.

 _Why? Is this boy not your sworn enemy?_ The words rang out as he stumbled his way through the water in search of the pocket of air. His vision dancing as he began losing air.

 _What a shame, your kind usually lasts longer down here,_ he grit his teeth in frustration. Just as Taeyong was about to give in and let the water fill his lungs, air filled him as his head broke through the water’s surface into a wide opening.

He placed both palms on the stone floor and in his mind he saw more tunnels, a great stallion and a boy.

 _What_ is _a Child of the Moon doing so deep in the Kingdom of Sun?_ The creature asked as Taeyong fully saw him in his mind. He appeared before, across the opening in a shallow pool.

He was in a human’s form this time, nude from the waist up and various water dwelling plants covering him from the waist down. The prince however was nowhere in sight and Taeyong grit his teeth, pulling himself over the ledge and onto dry stone. His clothes clung to him uncomfortably and his hair hung in his eyes.

“The same as you,” he finally spoke, still panting to breathe as he kneeled on the stone, catching his breath.

“Exiled from our home and forced to seek refuge in this foreign land,” his voice was low, it had been so long since he had spoken to a kelpie. He couldn’t recall them having ever been male, but it wasn’t shocking either he decided— all creatures still had to procreate he guessed.

“Exiled? You? What is your crime?” the man snorted as he stepped out of the water to tower over the young boy.

Taeyong looked up at him with wide eyes, trying to still his trembling lip and keep from giving away the terror he felt in his bones.

“My crime? Being born a male heir to a matriarchy, I guess?” he quipped, deciding to hide behind bravado. The faerie pulled himself up to stand, still dwarfed by the man but he felt less vulnerable on his feet and tilted his head up to glare into glowing crimson eyes.

Again, the man snorted and made to bow to Taeyong in mock reverence.

Even while standing there, he used his feet’s connection to the stone to listen to the cave song, to find the prince. Tunnel after tunnel led him nowhere and he began losing hope of finding the other boy alive as seconds ticked by.

“I had no idea I was in the presence of the tithed prince,” the kelpie found amusement in it. The gesture stung but Taeyong didn’t care at the moment. He was irrelevant if he couldn’t save Youngho.

“And you? Why are you skulking around here? Would you not rather be in the swamps?”

“I would, Little Prince, and would you not rather be in your dark caves among the bats and trows?”

Taeyong stayed silent as he tried to gather his next words, afraid the creature before him might plunge him into the depths at any instance.

“That boy you called “Yours” why do you seek him so persistently?”

Taeyong thought about it, the answer was clear to him, but the words wouldn’t come to him. He cast his eyes to the ground and thought of Youngho and how even when the queen was cruel towards him or the other children were scorning him, he defended him, gave him a place to feel safe.

Even dripping wet he could tell tears were gathering in his eyes and he tried to will them away, showing weakness to this kelpie wasn’t an option. If he could keep a stony gaze level with the queen, why could he not with a creature he didn’t know.

His answer was simple— the queen would never hurt her own son, even to hurt him, this creature had every reason to kill the prince.

“If I died, only he would miss me, but him,” the words caught in his throat as he tried to vanish the images of his friend sunken and forgotten in the bottom of a lake.

“Please, Kelpie, he is the only one to show me kindness in this place, I can not lose him,” his voice was barely above a whisper and he couldn’t lift his gaze— he didn’t care about appearing strong or weak anymore. He just wanted Youngho back.

As the kelpie seemed to think his answer over, Taeyong tried to think back on all he knew of kelpies, all the lessons he had had before and all the one’s he’d met before.

“ _Something lost is something gained, remember this and survive you might, the Kelpie’s game,”_ rang in his mind— a rhyme he’d been told as a childling before he’d been tithed away. His nursery maid had had an obsession with kelpies and had always told him stories of them since he could remember.

“Worry not, he is alive for now, Moonchild,” the kelpie spoke, his tone cold and even, harsh to Taeyong’s ears even as a spark of hope flared in his chest.

Just as the words met his ears he saw his friend through the cave’s voice, wrapped in lake weed and glowing seaweed over his nose and mouth. He floated forgotten in one of the many deep caverns.

“I will give you something in exchange!” he blurted out, knowing now that his friend was alive and he had seen him through the cave’s eyes.

“In exchange for him, what will you give me?” the kelpie spoke again, red eyes staring down as the child rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

“I will change places with him if you return him to the surface,” Taeyong spoke without hesitation. He knew he had nothing of value to offer the creature beside his own life.

The kelpie hummed as he seemed to mull it over, one life in exchange for another was a fair offer in Taeyong’s eyes, and he hoped the creature saw it that way as well.

“The moon, dangling from your ear, I want that,” he finally spoke.

The words pierced through Taeyong’s chest, the moon was one of his few meaningful possessions and hadn’t even considered it to be of value to the kelpie who had been exiled from the Kingdom of Night.

Before he could process the request further, Taeyong unscrewed the ball at the end of the bar and unthreaded it from his ear and thrust it at the creature.

“Take it,” he said, venom in his voice. As their hands brushed, Taeyong was suddenly on the balcony of the palace. It was the night of his twelfth name day, and Youngho was handing him a black box with a pale green ribbon.

He felt his heart break as the kelpie took the jewelry from him and stepped into the water behind Taeyong, dematerializing into droplets of water and disappearing entirely.

 _Find him if you want him, but be swift the spell won’t last forever_.

Taeyong fell to his knees and screamed out in frustration and anger, his fists clenching as he struck the ground with them. He couldn’t remember the way the caves had showed him and his mind was in too much turmoil to listen to their song again.

He felt helpless as he curled into a little ball. He’d now lost the two things that mattered most to him and had no way of finding the prince again— no guarantee that his own lungs would hold up in trying to find him once more.

Sobs wracked his body the more he tried to clear his thoughts to listen once more to the cave. He knew he didn’t have time to cry, the spell could wear off at any moment and he’d truly lose Youngho forever.

 _A hint, please_ , he begged but was met with only silence before the connection to the kelpie vanished. Taeyong’s fists balled tighter as he stood himself up. He couldn’t be weak right now— Youngho wouldn’t hesitate, he told himself as he took a running start towards the water the kelpie had first appeared in, and found it became deeper the further back he waded until he could fully submerge himself under.

He peered around underwater, his head spinning with adrenaline as it coursed through his veins. To his right he only saw the cave wall, but to his left he saw the wall taper off and open into the mouth of another tunnel.

“ _Please let me hear you one more time,_ ” he thought to himself as he placed a hand against the smooth wall of the cave, and once more he felt the cave guide him, left and through the tunnel he swam, keeping his hand on the wall of the cave as he continued on.

He was led a short distance through the tunnel until it opened to another cavern. There, on the floor surrounded in weeds and algae, he saw Youngho laying there with his eyes closed. The seaweed was still glowing, however its light was fading and Taeyong feared what that meant.

As fast as he could, he swam to the bottom of the cavern and grabbed for the prince, nudging him gently until his eyes opened.

Youngho flailed around panicked until his eyes landed on Taeyong’s.

The smaller boy waved slightly in greeting before helping him free himself of the weeds ensnared around his body. He pointed in the direction he had come from and grabbed the prince’s wrist to tell him to follow closely.

The journey back to the air pocket was quick and just as Taeyong pulled the other up over the ledge, the seaweed stopped glowing entirely and fell wilted from his face.

“Tae, what the hell is going on?” he cried out in horror.

Taeyong pulled Youngho into a tight hug, squeezing him against him as tears fell freely from his eyes and sobs took over his body once more.

His words were unintelligible and all the prince could make out were, “Thank the moon you’re alive,” and Youngho couldn’t even bring himself to care that the other was squeezing him a little too tightly. He just held him back tighter.

“Tae I’m alive, but what of that _moon-fiend_?” Had he been in a clearer frame of mind, he might not have used that specific word, and even if Taeyong didn’t know the meaning of the word entirely he knew it wasn’t something _good_ , as it had been hurled at him countless times.

His chest clenched as he pushed away from the prince, pain and fear and so many different emotions filled him at once as he stared at the prince in disbelief.

Youngho stared at him in confusion, not registering what he’d said to upset the other so deeply.

Taeyong just shook his head in anger and sadness and confusion, turning imploring eyes to the prince, searching for answers— some kind of relief.

When he stayed silent, Taeyong finally spoke though his voice could barely be heard.

“Your people call _me_ that, he is of the same court as me, does that make me a monster as well?” Taeyong spat as he put more distance between the two.

“Tae—” Youngho finally caught up to what was going on and what had caused the other boy’s distress and he felt a knife twist in his heart realizing the careless words that had spilled from his mouth.

“Do you call me that when I’m not around? He’s no more evil than anyone of my court, he is the same as me,” he defended. He was angry with the creature as well, but he could still understand it’s pain.

“You don’t drag people to the bottom of the lake to drown them,” Youngho countered taking a step closer to Taeyong.

“He spared you,” Taeyong pointed out, gesturing to the wilted seaweed on the ground.

“He has no home either, like me they banished him,” he continued as he took a step back for each one Youngho advanced.

“Forgive me for not showing sympathy to my captor,” Youngho regretted the words the instant they tumbled from his mouth. But it was too late, Taeyong was spitting them back at him and dove straight into the water, knowing the prince would be stranded without him.

He knew he was being stubborn and too harsh, but he didn’t care at the moment, his mind was reeling from everything he had been through in just the past hour alone. His head hurt, his heart hurt, his whole body ached— the swimming doing nothing to help the fresh wounds on his back.

Around him he saw an inky blackness as a sharp pain shot through his back, his wounds finally giving way and opening once more as his blood flowed from the wounds.

He was losing consciousness as water began to fill his lungs with each hiss of pain.

 _“This is it_ ,” he thought bitterly as he let his body go limp. ” _This is how I die, at the bottom of a lake from being too stubborn_.”

He felt an arm wrap around his wrist and drag him through the caves. He was barely aware of what was going on or even if he was being pulled the right way, but it wasn’t long before his head was breaching the surface of the lake, Youngho beside him.

Taeyong blinked blearily, eyes sensitive to the light once more and burning.

In the distance, he thought he could make out the tail of a great fish disappear into the depths.

 _Your defensive words did not go unheard, nor did your prince mean to insult your generosity,_ echoed in his mind as he let his head fall back into the sand.

Next to him, he felt Youngho’s restricted movements as he tried to shift with his wet clothes clinging to him.

“I did not mean to hurt you, Tae, I was afraid, I offer my deepest apology,” the prince spoke quietly as his hand clasped Taeyong’s tiny wrist, fingers inching down until the locked in place with the younger’s.

“I will erase that word from my vocabulary,” he added, voice serious as his hand tightened his hold.

Taeyong rolled onto his side to look the other in his eyes.

“I was scared too,” he answered after a pause, pulling their clasped hands to his lips and placing the faintest kiss to the back of Youngho’s hand.

“You are forgiven,” Taeyong added quietly as he move to sit himself upright and Youngho followed suit.

The moment was cut short by a shadow looking over them— paladins stared down at the boys and Taeyong’s heart started pounding in his chest. He looked to Youngho in horror moments before searing hot pain encircled his wrists in the form of iron cuffs.

The smaller boy screamed as the metal burned his flesh as he was yanked to his feet by the paladins.

“Release him!” Youngho cried out pulling himself to stand, shoving the paladins aside.

“He has broken the law, it is the Queen’s orders he be brought back in this manner,” the answer gruffly, nudging the prince out of their way.

“Law? What law?” he cried incredulously, anger filling him up from the very core.

“Leaving the limits of the city without the king’s command,” they cited as they pulled the younger boy along with them.

“He could not leave unless he was commanded to do so! It was my order, now uncuff him,” he demanded, heart breaking seeing Taeyong in such a state where inky black blood oozed from open wounds on his back and face contorted in pain as the iron bit into his flesh.

The paladins ignored all other protests from the prince and led Taeyong back towards the city.

Sol approached Youngho, the prince’s circlet in hand.

Youngho snatched it back furiously.

“You told her, he was here?” he questioned.

“Even after I requested you not to?”

“He summoned that beast to murder you!” Sol argued back with a deep frown.

“He has no way of doing so! He _saved_ me from that kelpie, if not for him I would have died, and what had you done to rescue me?” the prince challenged. He was still a whole head shorter than the other boy, but squared his shoulders and glared defiantly to make himself seem bigger.

“I fetched the palace guard to save you,” he retorted.

“I’d have been dead long ago if not for him,” Youngho shoved passed the other boy and placed his circlet back onto his head.

His heart hammered in his chest as he ran through any list of possibilities of punishment for Taeyong and only found solace in the fact his father had used a binding command on her so she was unable to execute him herself or order his execution— anything else however was fair game.

Even three years later, he’d never forgive himself every time his eyes fell upon Taeyong’s torn wing. Every time his eyes would land upon it, he would always remember the morning he had spoken the words, “Taeyong Lee you will accompany me to the lake today,” against the younger’s protest. 

And every time his eyes fell upon the tattered wing he'd fill with a fresh wave of guilt as intense as the day he bore witness to his mother the queen shredding it with her claws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it’s so long and probably not even _good_ nor is it beta’d... 
> 
> I'm curious if the storyline jumps around too much to make sense or what your opinions on the way it's being written. Also i’m unsure whether this needs to be rated M or not. It deals with some darker themes so it might go up just to be safe.
> 
> If you've even made it to this chapter, I greatly appreciate it. I can't promise I'll continue to have a new chapter out every two days as they're getting longer and longer each update. I'm sorry. 
> 
> [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_) | [ Curious Cat ](https://curiouscat.me/ttaeyongs_)


	6. Chapter V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Valuable, acorns are the most, when it’s the fae you long to host,”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm. I wrote this chapter with a fever. I've been sick the last three days and I could barely focus. I wanted to reach my usual every two days schedule though so I made myself write it.
> 
> also! I went back and added date and location stamps to every chapter so maybe it'll help since the timeline jumps around every time Johnny falls asleep ;)

_July 22nd, 2127  
Emerald Grove_

When John awoke the events of the night before played over in his head, still wasn’t sure any of it was real. He expected to wake with a headache or bruises from when Dandelion threw him, but to his surprise he didn’t feel anything.

It was surreal to him, last night the minimal pain could haves been chalked up to adrenaline but still no pain in the morning?

 _Who took care of me?_ He thought to himself. There hadn’t been any trace of another person and he was positive the white stag had been a fever dream, no other explanation made sense— neither did a perfect ring of snow in the middle of summer.

The more he tried to think about it, the more his head began to throb, as if there was some cosmic force stopping him from remembering the events.

 _That’s silly_ , he scolded as he sat up in his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. There had to be a perfectly reasonable answer for why he couldn’t remember. It most likely had something to do with hitting his head, he reasoned with himself.

Even after showering last night, the scent of peppermint lingered around him mixed with bergamot. He didn’t necessarily mind it but it was rather potent and clung to him as a reminder that yes, something did happen— even if he couldn’t remember it.

His eyes opened wide as he recalled placing Seul’s bangle down near the snow. If he searched his bag for the bangle and it wasn’t there then he’d know for certain it all wasn’t some kind of twisted fever dream.

With that new goal in mind he finally took around his room for the first time upon waking up and something was _off_. The air thrummed with energy, a frequency so dense it was palpable— electrified him almost, made his hair rise on the back of his neck and bumps break out across his body with a shiver.

His desk had been moved across the room, blocking the exit door and the chair was upturned and placed on the dresser adjacent. The dresser that had once been on the left wall beside the in suite bathroom was now on the right wall below a window where his desk had been prior and his bed was in the very center of the room facing the grand picture window on the back wall of his room.

He stared in mild horror as his bow hung precariously from the chandelier, threatening to fall at any moment and his arrows were sticking from the wall above the picture window in taking the shape of all the consecutive moon phases.

What truly caught his eye was in the center of the full moon— Johnny’s own drawing of the seven pointed star from the morning before on the train, ripped from the pages of his journal and hung loosely.

He tossed his blankets aside and slid out of bed, rubbing his eyes once more to make sure he was really seeing all of this right. Standing up, he first made his way to the chandelier to retrieve his bow before it could fall to the floor. He noted that its limbs were wrapped in a pale green ribbon that had tiny leaves and flowers sprouting from it that wilted as soon as he touched them. As they fell to the floor they disappeared into sparkles that resembled falling stars. The ribbon stayed in place, soft and silky— smooth to the touch.

Pressing the hidden button on the riser, Johnny collapsed the bow and took the green ribbon to tie around his wrist a few times so he wouldn’t lose it.

Turning his back on the chandelier, collapsed bow in hand, he approached the wall to retrieve the paper hung by the arrows. Johnny flinched as his bare foot stepped on something that was a little damp. He cringed and looked down although he was slightly mortified at what he’d find— a piece of parchment with colorful lines and symbols painted into it almost like constellations. Thankfully the painting was still intact and hardly smeared but he wasn’t sure what he was looking at other than yet another page torn from his journal.

This seemed too elaborate of a prank for anyone at the lodge. His father would never waste his energy on something like this, nor would the maids. None of it made sense to him— especially the flowers.

Johnny heaved a sigh and finally as he approached the window he noticed yet one more detail that seemed impossible that had him doubting he was even awake— the window was frosted over, just like the one on the train had been.

 _This is a dream, it has to be_ , Johnny thought incredulously as he stared at yet another drawing of the seven pointed star and what Johnny could only describe as doodles of acorns and a deer eating the acorns. He wasn’t really sure what was being depicted there, whoever left it was definitely not an artist— but somehow the whimsical drawings brought a smile to his face even if he was completely confounded as to what was even going on.

He half expected to wake any moment on the floor of the forest with Dandelion nearby, braying in the twilight as he awoke from being unconscious.

As Johnny tugged at the top most arrow of the full moon to free his journal page he noticed the shaft had been snapped in half and bound together by the same kind of green ribbon he had found wrapped along his bow. He stared puzzled at it, wondering why that one had been broken but not the rest and why whoever did this felt the need to fix it— until a shiny golden ring slid down the shaft from the feathered end.

Johnny’s eyes widened in shock as he let go of the arrow, sending it clattering to the floor. He gasped at it when the ring clunked against the wooden planks. Somewhere behind him he swore he heard laughter— innocent and beautiful like windchimes and then a cold breeze as the window frosted over once more. Before he could call out to whoever the voice belonged to, his attention was ripped away once more as the sound of tapping on glass caught him by surprise.

Looking down at the window, his heart raced as he saw before him a new design appear— a circle within a circle and four arrows pointing outward forming together in the center of the inner circle. He knew it from Seul’s book— it was the cover art although the one on the cover was placed between two swans with crossed necks, watching each other’s backs. She’d told him it was a symbol for protection created by the Children of the Forest.

He still couldn’t fully process anything that was going on— everything was unreal from his room being rearranged to the strange symbols and the disembodied laughter and disappearing flowers. It felt dreamlike, as if the smallest noise would rouse him from his slumber and he’d find himself tucked back in bed in Neo, high above the clouds with sunlight beaming in through his window ready to start another day.

But as quickly as the symbol appeared, it vanished leaving Johnny to question whether he had actually seen it or not. The intense energy faded slowly, leaving only a clean earthy smell mixed with bergamot.

His senses regained themselves and his attention turned to the golden ring that had tumbled to the floor only moments ago.

Still attached to the shaft of the broken arrow, Johnny unwound the green ribbon as he knelt on the ground before the great picture window. The early morning sunlight was dancing across his face, only broken up by the leaves from trees in the near distance.

He threw the arrow to the floor as if it burned him as soon as the ring slid down the shaft and into his hand. It felt like the tiny ring was searing hot metal blisteringly hot against his flesh.

Before he even knew what was happening, tears were gathering in his eyes and collecting on his lashes, threatening to spill over. He couldn’t believe his eyes— out of everything impossible that had happened that morning this was the hardest to believe.

Three years ago he had left that very same ring in the woods, compelled to do so by some force of nature because it simply felt right. And three years ago he had cried himself to sleep because it was his last remaining memory of his mother. He’d told his father he lost the ring while they were in the woods and couldn’t find it.

He remembered how crushed his father had been at the news his wife’s old wedding band had been lost to the trees and roots of the Emerald Grove but had said some poetic nonsense about how she was always in the woods now, watching over them.

Johnny never believed she was watching over him, and he didn’t think she was now either— even with the ring back in his possession, but he did think that there was something. A force of some kind was definitely out there in the woods keeping an eye on him and had protected him last night from the wolves and now returned to him what was once lost.

Startled out of his thoughts by a loud knocking on the door, Johnny stood abruptly and tucked the ring away in the pocket of his sweatpants to deal with later.

“Master John?” a hesitant woman’s voice called out as the door rattled from the other side.

“Y-yeah?” he called out looking around his room and horrified by the state of it. How was he to explain everything to the maid when she opened the door.

“Your father requests you for breakfast,” she replied gently, still struggling with the door.

“Is everything alright? Your door seems stuck,” she added as an afterthought.

Johnny swallowed thickly and wracked his brain for some kind of excuse, why he would have barricaded the door or locked it shut.

He glanced back out the window as the frost disappeared completely and could have sworn he saw the silver stag staring at him from just beyond the tree line— but that was crazy.

“Y-yeah I just blocked the door, uh scared that the wolves would get me,” he tried to sound like he believed those words, tried to lace a hint of fear in his voice hoping she’d believe him.

“You’re a terrible liar, sir, but it’s none of my business, hurry up your father’s waiting,” she scolded and Johnny held his breath as he listed to her footsteps disappear down the hallway. He felt momentary relief but didn’t know how he would explain this when she came back to fix his bed later and there were arrow holes in the wall.

The desk was solid oak and immensely heavy he wasn’t sure he could lift it on his own so he settled for sliding it across the floor, wincing at the loud scuffing noise it made as he moved it. Once it was far enough away from the door for him to open it just enough to slip through, he cast one last look around the room— still trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened in the span of time since waking.

The lodge was alive with the sounds of maids cooking and cleaning the place and Johnny found comfort with the normalcy of the routine. Down the hallway he could see the shadows of them as they moved about and flitted from room to room cleaning as if the entire lodge was in disarray after only one night.

Moving towards the dining room, he could smell an assortment of foods that had his mouth watering. From slow cooked sausage to perfectly ripened fruits, Johnny couldn’t wait to take a seat with his father and eat.

Upon entering the room, he found his father had already begun to eat and had something pulled up on his projector— new news most likely.

“Good morning,” Johnny greeted, making his presence known as he skirted the room, it was far too ornate for his liking and the long mahogany table always seemed pointless when it was only ever the two of them that dined at it. From the walls hung various trophies— animals his father had hunted and had their heads fastened to placards in a gaudy display.

The only thing Johnny really liked about the dining room was the floor to ceiling windows on the lake’s edge that gave the illusion of the room floating atop the water. When it would rain, Johnny loved to bring as many pillows and blankets as he could scrounge up and build himself a little nest and watch as the storms would roll in over the lake— would watch the lightning dance on the horizon and light up the sky. He’d catch himself up in fantasies of playing out in the rain, feeling the cool droplets kiss his skin as the wind whipped his hair around.

Free. He would feel free until rolling booms would rattle the glass and bring him back to his reality— a steamy mug of coffee and the softest down pillows and endless technology at his fingertips.

“Are you feeling better, son?” Johnny tore his gaze from the window and took his place at one of the seats along the side of the grand table, not far from his father.

“I am, last night gave me quite the scare,” conversation was always stilted and awkward between them first thing in the morning. Even after living together and being raised by the man, Johnny still felt like strangers trapped inside a minefield of cordial greetings and simple pleasantries.

“Me as well, John,” something in his tone had Johnny halting from piling his plate high with food. He turned to stare at the man who’s eyes seemed clouded— pensive as he stared down at his own food, focusing way too had on cutting pieces off to eat for it to be as simple as that.

Johnny shifted awkwardly, bracing for what he knew was coming. His hand slid into his pocket and clutched the tiny golden ring he had stowed away earlier as if it could give him strength— if not from his mother then from the force that had brought it back to him.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you too, John,” his father started and the vulnerability in his voice caused an uncertain air to settle over Johnny. Neither had been particularly good at expressing their emotions and it had only gotten worse after his mother was taken so abruptly from them.

“I kept thinking while you were missing, ‘is this trip worth it?’” he paused and set his cutlery down to look across the table to Johnny.

“Year after year I bring you here, endangering you each time, just to satisfy my own desire to bring down that damned white deer,” Johnny wasn’t sure where he was going with it but felt some kind of emotion settle in his stomach. He couldn’t decipher it but knew it left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

“I’m not a doll made of glass, you’re not endangering me by bringing me here, I can handle myself,” he still wasn’t sure if that was the sentiment that had taken residence in his core but the frustration of being treated like he might break at any moment was lapping at the recesses of his mind.

“I know you aren’t, and you sound so much like your mother when you speak like that,” he hung his head, laughing bitterly.

To Johnny it was funny, he could barely remember his mother despite being fourteen when he’d lost her— even if it was a side effect of the trauma he still found it hard to believe he couldn’t remember anything about her beyond her face and her kind eyes, things he’d seen in photographs.

“If anything, it’s me who’s here to keep you safe,” Johnny pushed all his thoughts aside— didn’t want this conversation to take a familiar and dark turn. Instead he thought to brighten the atmosphere with a teasing quip.

“Keep me safe? With your arrows that cannot kill?” his father snorted, picking up his glass of juice and taking a sip.

“Someone has to look out for you when you get that look in your eye—”

“And what look is that?” his father challenged, arching a brow and setting his glass down with a little more force than needed.

The look Johnny had seen too many times— it was a wild rage, burning and all consuming. Sometimes Johnny feared it might swallow him too if he wasn’t careful. The desire to hunt and claim anytime the white stag danced into their field of vision— whenever it was so much as mentioned. Almost as if the beast itself drove his father mad with the desire to kill and being outsmarted year after year by the stag just added frenzy to the fire.

“The look you get when you speak of that buck,” Johnny decided he would not tell his father about the encounter in the woods— even if he knew his father wouldn’t believe it he wanted to keep any stories of the deer being sighted far away from his father. The last thing he wanted was for this hunting trip to turn out like all the others— with his father chasing the deer from dawn until dusk, only returning home when his mare was exhausted to the point she could no longer run.

“That bastard, this will be the year,” his father grumbled and Johnny slid his mother’s ring onto his index finger finding that it slid easily despite knowing it should only go as far as the first knuckle. The metal band soothed him in a way he couldn’t explain and he felt the tension seep out from him.

“Perhaps this will be the year,” Johnny concluded, his words held no meaning but his father seemed not to pick up on it as they continued to dine in silence for the remainder, only broken up by the occasional request for the maids to bring something to the table by his father.

Trudging back to his room, Johnny dreaded having to explain it to anyone else in the lodge, instead he held onto a childlike hope that everything would be sorted back to where it was supposed to be by the time he returned.

Of course that hope had been in vain— even if there was no explanation for why his room had been torn apart in the middle of the night while he slept he doubted the same cosmic force— or whatever it was— would be kind enough to fix it back to how it was before.

Carefully, he slid his way between the door and his desk, sideways and some how he still managed to bump his hip on the door knob sending a sharp jolt of pain through him for just a moment. He grumbled to himself, low and irritated as he crossed the room to where his dresser was resting.

Really, Johnny didn’t want to deal with cleaning the mess nor did he want to deal with explaining it. He wondered if he just asked the maids to straighten it up for him and didn’t answer many questions would they just drop it? Would they believe that he had been stressed by last nights wolf attack? Or maybe it was an eccentricity brought about by hitting his head?

Johnny pulled out fresh clothes for the day and felt anticipation well inside of him, even if he was honest some fear as well. He wasn’t entirely keen on going into the woods again so soon after the wolves— they were bigger than any wolves he remembered seeing around the woods before. He remembered Donghyuck’s warning about them too and wondered if it applied to all the creatures of the forest.

The stag had seemed massive, looking back. Stags by definition were massive bucks, but even still the one from last night felt huge and intelligent— with its big black eyes and heavy crown of horns atop its head.

He didn’t recall much other wildlife from the night before but he also hadn’t been particularly looking while Dandelion raced through the trees to escape the wolves— nothing else had really been on his mind other than ‘don’t fall off’ and ‘don’t get eaten.’

He just knew his father was rearing to go already having missed their first night and getting a late start the morning after— if Johnny had to guess it was a little before noon but he didn’t feel like checking the clock to verify.

If it were like any other year, roughly by the time they would return from hunting in the morning, Donghyuck would be free to stop by in the evening to have an early dinner of whatever game his father had hauled in for the day and maybe Johnny would get to ask him about whatever happened the night before.

As he turned to leave his room, his eye caught once more on something in his room. The smaller window with the ledge next to where his bed once rested beside.

 _Didn’t I leave Seul’s acorns there last night?_ He thought to himself as he approached the window noticing that the floor was littered with five of the hat-like tops of the acorns and one was left on the window sill missing a chunk from it— almost as if someone had tried to take a bite of it.

He gathered them into his pocket before turning to leave the room.

Johnny’s head hurt as he tried to piece together what it meant before recalling the childlike drawings of the deer eating acorns etched into the frost that morning.

The more sense he tried to make of anything, the less sense it all seemed to make. Johnny rubbed his temples and shimmied his way back through the door once he grabbed his bow and salvaged his arrows from the wall.

On his way to the foyer, he approached one of the maids and apologized profusely about the state of his room before asking her to straighten it for him. Of course she smiled and nodded, but Johnny could see behind her smile was a wilting happiness, no doubt she had been hoping for an easy day but he had added chores to it, and he did feel bad, but he didn’t want to deal with it on his own.

Sucking his teeth, he apologized once more— making the entire exchange awkward between the two before dashing off to join his father.

In the foyer, his father was dressed and ready to go, his gun was strapped to his back and he was dressed in dark, earthy tones that blended well with the foliage, Johnny himself was dressed similarly with his dark pants tucked into boots and his bow and quiver slung low around his hips— much to his father’s disappointment.

“One day, you’ll understand the art and appreciate the weapons that gave your family money,” on the surface level the words were benign enough, but Johnny knew it was just one of his subtle ways to dig at him and make him feel bad for not wanting to continue the family’s legacy in gunsmithing.

“And maybe one day you’ll understand that you don’t need to kill defenseless animals for sport,” he quipped back and strode out of the front door.

As much as he genuinely did enjoy these trips, the actual hunting was his least favorite part. He couldn’t stand the sight of the animals in pain and seeing the life vanish from their eyes before they even knew what was happening. It all seemed barbaric to him and cruel.

He was often told his mother held the same sentiment, and even if he couldn’t remember her he decided that she couldn’t have been an awful parent if she didn’t support her husband’s hobby. Ms. Kwon had always told Johnny that before his mother had passed their trips into the woods had just been for camping and experiencing nature as it was seen as a luxury in Neo but something about the accident had changed his father.

His father led them towards the stable to get their horses ready, Johnny hung back, walking slowly just to savor the scenery around him.

The lake their lodge was built on wasn’t very large, but the river that it flowed from was long and winding, it lead far up a winding path into the mountains where it started at the base of a great waterfall. Donghyuck had brought him there one morning, just before dawn when the mist was thick and the clouds were hanging low.

The rising sun had cast a rainbow over the valley where the waterfall fell to and it had been one of the most beautiful scenes Johnny had ever witnessed. The hopeless romantic that he was had fantasized about a nameless lover sitting with him on the rocky ledges adjacent to the waterfall, watching the sunrise and holding them close— whispered “I love you”s in the new dawn. It sounded like heave to him— to be able to experience that one day even if he knew it were impossible.

When Johnny moved to brush Dandelion, his father put his arm out to stop him. The younger man took a step back and raised his brow in question.

“I sent for Donghyuck,” his father said carefully. Johnny narrowed his eyes, not fully understanding the response he got.

“Even if you sent for him, he will not get here in time for us to leave, I can brush the horses and saddle them like I always do,” he replied cautiously, still trying to understand his father’s motives.

“For your company today,” his father clarified. Johnny cocked his head in confusion— his father wasn’t making any sense to him.

Until their butler strode out from the back end of the stable leading both Star and another mare— spotless white, named Moon, both fully saddled.

The man Johnny only knew as “Kim” handed the reigns to Star over to his father before mounting Moon himself. It was then that Johnny noted he was dressed similarly to them and had his own hunting rifle strapped to his back.

“I know you don’t enjoy this like you used to, Son,” His father finally spoke when realization was dawning on him.

“You’re twenty-two and your passions lie elsewhere, and as an adult you don’t need to spend every moment with your father, these trips are a time for relaxing, and how can you relax if you’re being forced to do something you don’t like?” Johnny stared gaping at his father, unsure of how to answer. He wasn’t fully convinced that this wasn’t a tactic to guilt him into hunting with his father again like they had every year. It was clear from both ends that there was no bonding to be held when Johnny stubbornly refused to kill any of his targets and his father refused to see his perspective of it.

“I don’t get it?” maybe he came off sounding dumb, but he really couldn’t wrap his head around it.

And then the fear and worry set in— if he wasn’t there how would his father ever know when to stop chasing that infernal stag? Who would tell him to pack it up and come home at the end of the day?

“You enjoy being in nature, exploring and drawing in that silly book of yours, take Donghyuck with you and do what you want to do, I have faith in your archery skills to not let yourself be killed,” his father explained. Johnny still wasn’t sure he was hearing any of this correctly.

“And is Kim going to be able to drag you back home when the horses have had enough and you wear yourself out?” Johnny wanted to say more, wanted to shout angrily— but he didn’t understand the anger he felt. He should have been excited, and deep down he was.

He just worried.

“Kim was my hunting partner long before you, John,” his father laughed as if his son’s concern was misplaced.

The younger felt his eyebrow twitch in frustration but decided it was fine. His father could go off and play hunter out in the woods with Kim, he wanted to see Donghyuck anyways.

“And this isn’t some ploy to make me feel bad about not wanting to hunt, right?” Johnny just had to ask to quell the skepticism bubbling inside of him.

“You don’t need to worry, Johnny, really,” his father reassured him.

A simple nod was all Johnny offered him before the two men took off, riding down one of the many paths surrounding the lodge. He figured if they got into any trouble they’d be able to reach out to him anyways through their phones.

With his day suddenly free and Donghyuck on his way, Johnny decided he’d sit at the peer while he waited for the younger to arrive.

He pulled out his journal just to sketch the scenery before him. It was rare that he got to spend much time alone on their trips to the woods, and even fewer were the moments where he got to just sit and enjoy himself.

He laid back once his sketch was complete and watched the clouds drift by overhead, contemplating their shapes and patterns. Seul had once told him of an ancient art of fortune telling by the clouds and it had caught his interest. Even if he thought there wasn’t much to tell from them beside the weather, he often found himself staring up at the clouds trying to guess what secrets they hid in their puffy interiors.

Before long, a shadow was cast over him and he sat up to see who it was— figuring it was either a maid or Donghyuck.

“How’d you manage to rid yourself of chasing the Wild Hunt today?” Donghyuck asked in greeting before offering a bright smile to Johnny.

The Wild Hunt was Donghyuck’s nickname for the silver stag his father pursued every year. He had explained once that it was a folk legend of a white deer that lurked the woods that drove men mad trying to hunt it. Johnny thought it was an accurate name.

“He decided he was bored of me and took his butler with him?” Johnny shrugged haphazardly and pulled himself to stand up.

“Weird, but okay,” Donghyuck responded, eyes glimmering with the reflection of the water shining off him.

“What did you want to do today then, _Your Highness,_ ” Johnny rolled his eyes at the title and nudged the other boy on the shoulder telling him to “knock it off,” before shrugging.

“I figured we could go out and just explore the woods? I saw something last night that I actually wanted to ask you about,” Johnny bit his lip. He knew Donghyuck knew the woods like they were his home and knew all of the stories and legends that surrounded them. He was really Johnny’s only clue to figuring any of this out.

“You could just ask me here,” Johnny heaved a sigh. Sometimes Donghyuck was stubborn, but he knew it was mostly him teasing.

He hoped at least.

“I can’t, there’s too many people around,” he replied quietly, glancing over Donghyuck’s shoulder and watching the maids and caretakers move around the lodge. There were too many people, and if he was about to risk it all and sound crazy, he’d rather do it in private in front of Donghyuck only.

The younger rolled his eyes and shoved Johnny playfully before walking off towards his stable.

“Because that’s not ominous at all.”

It wasn’t long before Johnny had Dandelion saddled up and ready to go, Donghyuck had his own horse, a fiery red mare named Marigold, saddled from his arrival. The two took off at a brisk pace down one of the trails opposite from where his father had gone— in the direction of the snowy ring he had discovered last night.

The ride was full of Donghyuck’s idle chattering, going on about the weather and the sun and asking Johnny about what all the commotion was last night— he’d heard the gunshots but had stayed back to tend the horses in case any danger headed their way.

“Woah, so you were attacked by wolves and Dandelion threw you from her back?” he asked incredulously as the two came to a halt at the clearing Johnny had been the night before.

Everything was the same except for the snow— it had melted as he had expected, but the toadstools he had expected to still be there weren’t.

Johnny almost doubted it was the same place he had been the night before, except he remembered the stream and the stones and there was still an imprint in the dirt where he had been thrown, and the thick energy humming through the trees.

“Yeah, she brought me here, I had to have hit my head on a rock or something because when I woke up someone had covered me in peppermint plants and honey,” Johnny explained while he looked around, half expecting the deer to appear again, or the person who had taken care of him.

“Covered you in peppermint and honey?” Donghyuck replied skeptically, though Johnny could tell there was something off about him, as if he felt the dense energy in the air too. He seemed to be on edge as he cast his eyes around the place before his eyes landed exactly where the ring of snow had been.

“And Donghyuck, the deer, the big white one,” Johnny gestured his hands making the motion for big in the air.

“He was there when I woke up and he walked up to me and nudged me with his snout,” when Johnny looked back at Donghyuck, he was crouching in the dirt in the center of where the ring had been, feeling the earth with his hands and Johnny swore his eyes were a glowing topaz color and he radiated pure light from him.

But that had to be a trick of the eyes— the sun was bright and shining directly on him. That’s all it was.

“What did you do next?” Donghyuck asked gravely, though somehow Johnny suspected the other boy already knew.

He didn’t know how he knew Donghyuck knew, something in his gut just told him he did.

“I left a gift for the stag, a silver chain and a golden bracelet,” Johnny replied, feeling as if Donghyuck was staring straight into him. The words were tumbling from his mouth before he could even filter them to save his dignity from the other.

“And what’s a stag supposed to do with a bracelet and a chain?” the younger scoffed as he looked on the ground, searching for what Johnny had left only to come up empty.

“If you left gifts, why don’t I see them? You left them last night didn’t you?” the younger prompted. Johnny just nodded his head and took a step back.

“I did, but you didn’t let me finish my story!” Johnny complained, feeling the weird energy come to a surge and he swore he saw something pale orange flicker behind the younger’s back.

He recounted how this morning he found the wedding ring in his room, but left out the details of his room being rearranged and the symbols he saw everywhere or the arrows in his wall.

Donghyuck listened with feigned interest and rolled his eyes when the other finished.

“What’s so fascinating about losing your jewelry and finding a piece you lost? You probably just lost it in your room and it finally turned up.”

They both stared at each other, knowing there was more to each other’s answers than what was spoken but neither wanted to be the first to break— but something in the younger’s eyes, maybe the glowing amber tint, felt hypnotic. It felt warm and comforting, like Johnny could just spill everything to the other and trust that it would be heard and accepted.

“It was stuck to an arrow protruding from my wall,” he explained and then proceeded to continue rambling about Seul and what she had told him about faerie rings and leaving gifts and to never ever breach one under any circumstances— though he omitted that last night he had breached it without knowing.

“And here, these,” he pulled the acorn tops out of his pocket and held them out to Donghyuck.

The other said nothing while examining the acorns and processing what he had just been told.

Fear gripped Johnny’s heart, afraid the other thought he was insane, that he was making all of this up. The longer the younger’s silence went on the colder and colder the fear in Johnny’s chest grew as it traveled down into the pits of his stomach.

When Donghyuck finally spoke again, it wasn’t what Johnny was expecting.

“ _Valuable, acorns are the most, when it’s the fae you long to host_ ,” Donghyuck’s voice was clear, it had a lilting tone to it as if reciting words from some ancient verse.

Johnny stared at him, bewildered and confused, he couldn’t formulate a proper sentence but the words rang through his mind.

It couldn’t have been a fae creature that had done that to his room— but the ring. He had left the ring at a faerie circle years ago as an offering and then suddenly it appeared after leaving another offering and bringing acorns into his home.

But why had it only been his room and not the whole lodge?

“What?”

Donghyuck heaved a petulant sigh and picked up a small branch to throw at the elder boy— hitting him square in the shoulder.

“Acorns. They’re an open invitation to faeries, you know like a Ouija board is an open invitation to devils? Just as dangerous, just as unpredictable, not something you just _do._ What the hell, Johnny?”

Donghyuck ran his fingers through his bangs as he clucked his tongue at the other while realization seemed to finally hit Johnny and the panic set in.

“Wait, faeries? Can they like, mark you or curse you? Donghyuck what does this mean?” Johnny frantically pulled the loose drawing of the seven pointed star from his journal.

Donghyuck screamed.

Loud and frustrated as he snatched the drawing from Johnny.

“I give up! He’s hopeless. Everything you’re not supposed to do and he goes and fucking does it, I can not believe him right now,” Donghyuck shouted into the air, completely ignoring Johnny for the time being who simply shrunk back in mild fear— concerned his friend was losing his mind.

“First he steps into a faerie ring, then he brings home acorns and then he draws a fucking Faerie Star without knowing what kind of powers he’s invoking,” the younger continued to rant, leaving Johnny with even more questions than answers.

“Actually, if it matters, I drew the star first,” Johnny supplied helpfully. It only seemed to spur the other on.

Donghyuck took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly before finally turning his attention to Johnny.

“Yes, it matters, of course it fucking matters, Johnny do you even know what this is a symbol of?” Donghyuck finally composed himself enough and pulled Johnny to sit beside him on one of the many rocks in the clearing, just feet away from the stream.

“I don’t, actually Donghyuck, yesterday on the train, I thought I was dreaming but,” Johnny paused and took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to relive the moment on the train in fear of triggering more memories of the day his mother died.

Something in Donghyuck’s demeanor put him at ease, he seemed to be radiating pure light that brought a calming aura over them both— blanketing the area with its tranquility.

“The lights began to flicker and the window frosted over, and when the lights came back on it was like someone had etched that symbol over the geometrical shape, and then when my father returned to the car it melted away?” he knew he sounded crazy, but truly Donghyuck made him feel like he could tell him anything.

“That geometrical shape right there, that’s scared geometry, Johnny, it’s called Metatron’s Cube, it’s usually used to purify negative thoughts and transform them into light and it’s also used as a reminder to discover powers hidden within ourselves,” Donghyuck explained and Johnny hung on to every word, wanting to scratch them down into his journal just as he always did with Seul when she explained things to him.

“Discovering hidden powers? And you called that a Faerie Star? What does that mean?” Johnny asked hesitantly. Donghyuck offered him a small smile— almost sad in its tilt.

“Oh Johnny,” he sighed before looking down at the paper, his fingers traced the points of the star longingly.

They stayed silent while Donghyuck contemplated the design and formulated his next words. The forest around them grew still, quiet as a cool breeze fluttered through the trees and rustled the leaves.

“I’m not sure how to explain the meaning behind this one, it’s a portal or gateway to the realm of the fae, it has many meanings but I think in conjunction with Metatron’s Cube, the faerie who drew this for you was lending you protection and leaving a message for you—” he hummed thoughtfully as he handed the paper back to Johnny.

The somber note in his smile reached his eyes as he leaned back to gaze up at the clouds.

“Faeries are masters of symbolism and a lot of care was put into this specific symbol for you, I would hold onto it and cherish it— but be careful of where you display the star it’s a portal for all fae not just the faerie who drew it for you, keep it closed inside your book when you’re not using it,” Johnny nodded his head and tucked the parchment away. He felt a small tingle run down his spine— almost giddy.

Upon learning the meaning behind both of the designs, the romantic in Johnny cherished it more— his heart skipped a beat as the picture became more meaningful to him, almost like it was a secret love letter.

“Is that all, Johnny? Are you done offending the faeries that reside in these woods?”

“Yeah, I think so?” Johnny answered hesitantly. If he had offended any faeries that might exist, he felt bad. Especially if he had hurt the one who had given him the lovely symbol on the train, or the one that gave him the ring back.

They stayed in the clearing a while longer before moving on, deeper into the forest, Donghyuck telling him stories about his childhood and exploring the woods before he was brought to the stable when his parents had died.

The sun had begun its descent and the moon rising in the sky chasing after, Donghyuck had decided it was time for them to begin heading back to the lodge where he was to stay the night. The woods were dark and when the sun disappeared from the sky they became dangerous with an ever present mist that confused travelers— or so Donghyuck had told him.

They walked the horses slowly back through the winding paths when a strong wind had blown through the trees, knocking Johnny’s journal loose from where he’d had it situated in on his saddle— always nearby in case he wanted to record something.

He watched in horror as the small book fell over a rocky ledge on the mountain path and disappeared just beyond his arm’s reach. Without thinking he leaped from Dandelion’s saddle, much to Donghyuck’s frustration, and sat on the edge of the ledge, reaching his arm down, barely brushing the book’s cover.

Just a little more, he just needed to reach a few more inches so he could get a hold of it. He leaned himself closer to the edge and just as his fingers gripped the spine the soft earth he was kneeling on gave way under him.

With a shriek, Johnny tumbled down, down the side of a small incline, catching on roots and branches of trees that jutted out. He held his journal tightly to his chest with one hand as he cradled his head with the other until he came to a full stop.

He was covered in dirt and twigs, and his body ached, covered in tiny scratches from his tumble but thankfully no massive pain anywhere.

“Johnny?” he could hear Donghyuck call from above, it was loud but distant. He could barely see him over the incline he had fallen from.

“Johnny are you okay?” he called out once more and Johnny gave an affirmative.

“Okay, hold on, I’m going to find a way down there to help you back up!” And like that, Donghyuck disappeared.

Johnny rolled over onto his side to survey his surroundings and what his eyes caught on stopped his breath.

Ruins.

He hadn’t realized there used to be buildings out in the woods— most notably there was a staircase made of stone. Derelict and crumbling— ivy and moss grew all along the cracking sides of the stilted stairs.

Whatever they had led to or been inside had been lost to time— only the stairs remained, seemingly leading to nowhere.

Two pillars held up the stairs, supporting their upper steps creating a small cave of sorts with overgrown weeds and flowers.

However, even more noticeable and glaring was a giant white stag, curled protectively over what appeared to be a human.

The stag’s eyes bored into Johnny, almost threateningly so and moved to place its neck further over the sleeping human protectively.

He knew it had to be the one from last night— there couldn’t be many silver stags residing in the woods— they were the rarest coloration after all. That much he had learned from his father. And this one’s antlers were impressive, they only ever seemed to get bigger every year as if the massive buck never shed them.

The deer held his gaze a while longer until the boy beside it began to stir.

The energy hung heavy, hummed and buzzed like it had the night before. His hair stood on its ends and his skin tingled— his chest constricted and breathing became difficult with how dense the air had become.

As the man beside the deer began to sit up, the deer nudged him back down— trying to hide him away from Johnny’s prying eyes. But he swatted the buck away with a frustrated wave of his hands and fully sat up.

Inky black eyes met Johnny’s own brown ones and Johnny swallowed thickly.

Before him was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen— porcelain skin and ashy hair, sharp features that glowed in the growing moonlight. He was dressed in all black with a crown of leaves and twigs woven together sitting atop his head, but that hardly seemed noteworthy to Johnny as he took in long knife like ears and glittering silver gossamer-like wings protruding from his back, though he noticed one was tattered as if mauled by a clawed beast.

The man stared back in shock, still and unmoving aside from a slender arm reaching out towards Johnny, mouth moving in silent words.

Something wet landed on his nose and he was about to curse the rain until he noticed puffy white flakes falling from the heavens— only staying within the space around them.

It’s then that Johnny noticed that he had once again stumbled into a faerie ring, toadstools and perfectly emerald grass— and now fresh falling snow.

The stag shifted in front of him and Johnny, regaining his attention.

Before him the man is gone and only the stag remained— the man nowhere in sight.

“You can see me?” Johnny thought he heard on the wind as a strong breeze ruffled though his hair, carrying with it an earthy scent with hints of bergamot.

And suddenly his world is spinning— he thinks he sees the a light glowing from the top of the stairs and the stag is approaching him.

“Johnny? Johnny are you there?” Donghyuck’s voice was all he registered before blacking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhm yeah. its even longer. and probably really bad and full of mistakes because i literally can not focus when I'm sick. im really sorry. 
> 
> If i didn't mess up too badly consider leaving a comment? I love every one I get and they help motivate me.
> 
> [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_) | [ Curious Cat ](https://curiouscat.me/ttaeyongs_)


	7. Chapter VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Bears asleep amidst the trees, Stags are prancing in the leaves, but one soul lies solitary in the night, dancing alone in the moon's pale light, watching over all manner of Sun, Earth, and Moon…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm a day late. Whatever sickness I've been dealing with has really been beating me down all I was able to do for the last two days was sleep. The quality might be bad and there's a few parts I don't think I like, but I still hope you enjoy it!

_July 12th, 2120  
Neo — The Underground_

“Are you lost?”

Johnny looked around wildly. He’d never wandered this far from the Sun District— the Cloud District being as far as his father allowed him to go. His father’s men had always made sure he never wandered too far from the main squares and never disappeared down hidden staircases leading lower into the bowels of the city.

Down here— he had to be in the Grass District judging by how dark it was and how cramped everything was. The majority of the city dwelled in this level and overcrowding had been an issue for a while his teachers had often told him— apartments were stacked upon apartments stacked upon store fronts and squeezed together into tiny spaces.

“I’m fine,” he called out, fear lacing his voice as he grit his teeth. He couldn’t show fear down here— it was bad enough he stood out from the common folk just by how he was dressed. He just needed to figure out how to get back up to the Cloud District and he’d be safe— if only he could remember how he’d gotten almost to the ground level.

Above, he couldn’t see the sky, couldn’t see the clouds or sun, just the never ending pathways and staircases leading up to the upper most layers of the city, and the steel plates that locked out the Grass District from the Cloud.

Still, Johnny couldn’t believe how he’d manage to sneak this far below without getting caught— maybe security wasn’t as tight leaving the Cloud District as it was getting into it, he thought. He still wished maybe someone had noticed him so he wouldn’t be lost.

Down there, everything was different, it was dark and dank and it smelled. Odors of smoke and food clung to the air and made him feel dirty the longer he lingered.

People were beginning to stare, notice he didn’t belong there. He kept his eyes cast to the ground and watched his steps on the steel grated pathways as he walked past various store fronts littered with graffiti and patched windows.

It had to have been around lunch time, the scent of home cooked meals permeated the thick air accompanied with the laughter of children and the calls from their parents beckoning them home for their meals.

Still fresh in his mind was how not long ago it was his own mother calling out to him, “John, come for dinner,” and “Johnny, it’s time to wake up, did you have a good sleep?” The pain was still fresh in his heart knowing he’d never hear her voice again. And even still, any memory he had of her was muffled— as if they were drowning in a sea sinking farther and farther away from his consciousness until they would disappear forever, eventually.

It was hard to believe a year and a half had passed already since they laid her to rest. It was still fresh as if it had only been days ago he was saying his final farewells before the casket was being lowered into the ground.

They said his memories would come back one day— most likely. There wasn’t any guarantee. Head trauma and emotional scarring were always hard to gauge they’d told him. He wished there was some kind of magic button to press and all of his memories would come flooding back to him.

All that was fresh was the smoke and fire— the first responders pulling a warm blanket over him, cradling his head and telling him every thing was going to be okay— distracting him as they pulled lifeless body after lifeless body from the wreckage.

Here, below the steel plates of the Cloud District with the smoke swirling around in the stale air and artificial light, it felt the same. A steel death trap moments away from combusting and taking away all he held dear once more.

Was that all he held dear?

His sense of self seemed to have disappeared that day too. He couldn’t remember his old hobbies, what he liked what he aspired to be.

The maids would prepare food for him they swore were his favorites, but he wanted nothing to do with the decadent meats and savory side dishes, his father spoke to him of his passion for wanting to continue the family’s business but was that really what he wanted?

And now in just three days’ time he was to be going hunting with his father when he didn’t even know _how_ to hold a gun. Was it even smart entrusting a fifteen year old with a weapon used to kill?

Johnny certainly didn’t think so, even if his father swore it was tradition.

He had just wanted to get out— to lose himself in the city for a while and rediscover who he was and what he loved about this place they told him he cherished. But the city felt like a steel cage, suffocating and restricting, even on the highest levels of the Sun District where the clouds kissed the tallest buildings and the sun shone its brightest.

To his left he saw the main path he was on break off into a dark corridor, and even if he knew better interest still lapped at his mind, egging him to go on despite his better judgement. He peered around to see if any one was watching him— they all thankfully seemed preoccupied for the moment and Johnny found himself ducking into the shadows.

Almost immediately he regretted it— it was dark, so dark he could hardly see even inches in front of him as his body blocked out the source of light. It was cramped and dark, and the ground was wet— muddy even and he grimaced not wanting to think about it anymore.

He considered turning back but refrained from doing so, not wanting to bring attention to the fact he was indeed very lost in an unfamiliar part of the city so instead he pressed on and continued down the dark path.

Squinting, he followed the tunnel as it twisted and turned in different directions on a slow decline, occasionally it would open into doorways either right or left into homes or businesses he assumed, but he didn’t want to push his luck by trying to enter any of them. He assumed the tunnel would eventually lead to the ground level of the Grass district.

Finally, after what felt like ten minutes he emerged back into the light— an atrium of sorts with faux sunlight shining down and compact gardens growing different herbs and vegetables. A few chickens clucked as they bobbled around and pecked at the ground.

In the center was a tree— tiny by normal standards but large given the tight space it was confined to down here. The trunk was wide and made up for its height in its girth. Built into the ground surrounding it was a stone mote that wasn’t very deep. It was wide enough that four wooden bridges were constructed to cross it in each of the cardinal directions and enter the shade of the tree. Engraved on the posts of the bridges were varying triangular shapes— to the north was an upside down triangle, the south the triangle was pointed upwards, to the east it was upright still but there was a line crossing the tip, and finally to the west was another upside down triangle but it too had a line crossing through its tip.

He wondered what those symbols meant and if they corresponded to their directions, but thought nothing more of it as his eyes caught sight of gleaming, healthy, bright red apples growing from the tree in the center. Johnny couldn’t help the smile that crossed his lips.

It was like nothing he had ever seen before, even up in the highest districts the vegetation was limited to roof top gardens and synthetic displays in the stone courtyards in front of the impressive glass towers. The one in front of his building featured a crystal cherry tree with sparkling pink flowers all year round and a blue diamond trunk that glittered against the white stone streets.

But here, on the ground there was a real tree with real fruit— even if it was small in comparison it made him happy, even the grass that grew patchy surrounding the mote and in the small atrium was enough to lift his spirits. It was only a brief visit, but he decided this was his favorite place in the entire city for now. He could imagine himself coming here with his novels and reading as the water in the mote babbled.

At the edges of the small courtyard, there were various vendors with wooden stalls selling wares from dishware to rugs and jewelry and produce. It was quiet despite clearly being a marketplace of sorts. Not many people were about, and Johnny could understand— business was most likely slow because the lower levels were the poorest and tended to work long hours with less leisure time.

He could feel their questioning eyes on him and pulled his hood up over his head and tucked his hands into the pouch of his hoodie, hoping this way he might draw less attention to himself.

His eyes landed on another passage way leading to another dark corridor, he chewed his lip contemplatively and began to head towards it when one of the jewelry stalls caught his eye. There was a silver earring hanging there on display with a tiny sun and moon dangling from it.

Something told him to take a closer look, it called out to him in a way but didn’t know why— his ears weren’t pierced and that was definitely a long bar meant to thread through two points. It was beautiful though and as he approached, the vendor cleared his throat in a warning for Johnny to not try anything funny.

“That’s pretty,” Johnny said, motioning to the earring and then down at the other wares. It was all gorgeous and of skilled craftsmanship.

“Do you make these yourself?” he asked the shopkeeper who had yet to say anything and eyed Johnny cautiously. Johnny was clearly from the higher districts with the way he was dressed and every so often, Johnny had heard stories of the lower shops getting raided by the military.

“I’m not, I just—” as he realized what the man must have been thinking. He raised his hands up to show he meant no harm.

“You’re a long way from your home, boy” the shopkeeper mumbled, eyeing Johnny suspiciously.

“I know, I just wanted to see if there were any bookstores down here— there’s none up there,” he answered smoothly. It wasn’t an entire lie. He’d heard of the black market down below and while physical books weren’t illicit, they were severely out dated and not many places still carried them.

“Books huh? Your kind still knows what those are?” he sneered at Johnny, and if Johnny hadn’t been so scared suddenly he might have been offended.

“Most of them up there seem to not know, but my mother had a small collection before she died,” Johnny explained, his face falling into sadness at the mention of his mother. He’d read all the books in her library, vintage classics like _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ and _Through the Looking Glass_ as well as _The Golden Key_. There weren’t many but he’d cherished all the books she’d left to him.

“If it’s books you’re looking for,” the man sighed reluctantly and glanced around the market place to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation.

“You’ll want to head to the UG, Seul’s shop is just left of the main square, you’ll know it by the acorns in the window and the heavy scent of jasmine and honey incense she burns,” he mumbled, leaning closer to Johnny who simply nodded.

“Uh, how much for the bar earring with the sun and moon?” Johnny asked quietly and offered a hesitant smile. The man rolled his eyes and rattled off a price.

“Uh it’s not made with iron or steel right? I’m allergic,” Johnny added as he pulled coins from his pocket. The man scoffed and shook his head, but eyed him even more suspiciously— like he was looking for something in particular from the younger boy.

With the bar tucked away into his hoodie, Johnny headed off across the square, hoping he was heading in the right direction to find the Underground. He had no idea where he was going, and was just going on a gut feeling— he hoped he could trust the merchant and maybe he was being foolish trusting blindly. Especially when he had been warned about everyone in the Grass and Underground districts.

“You’re going the wrong way, _Sunchild_!” the merchant called behind Johnny who whipped his head around with an embarrassed flush on his cheeks and turned to go in the direction the merchant pointed in. The name was unfamiliar to him but he assumed it had something to do with being from the only districts that saw the actual sun.

It was through another of those dark tunnels that led underneath the many buildings— this one at least had lights mounted to the walls every few yards to illuminate the path for which Johnny was grateful. The ground here was uneven, more so than it was in the original tunnel, where at least before there had been metal grates over the larger holes. Here, there were no attempts at filling the holes, just allowing the ground to break apart naturally and crumble how it may.

The tunnel here was much steeper than the previous one he had been through and the ceiling was lower, causing him to duck in certain areas as he passed by. It felt like he had been walking forever and was becoming paranoid that he’d been sent the wrong way on purpose. The people he passed down here glared at him and he much preferred it earlier when no one paid him any attention.

He pulled his hood up tighter as he finally saw where the tunnel opened and let out into a bustling underground marketplace.

The walls were made of stone and wood, and everything was cast in a dark fire-like glow, store fronts and homes alike were carved into the stones with wooden doors and glass display windows. All around him, people were going about their business, ducking in and out of shops but generally not interacting with anyone.

The atmosphere was heavy, unlike anything he had ever experienced before— it was like everyone down there could see right through him, knew all his secrets before he even knew them himself. Like everyone knew everyone was up to no good, but had some silent code of conduct.

 _Just keep your head down_ , Johnny told himself and watched carefully where he was going, desperate to not bump into anyone or cause any kind of a scene. He knew it was dangerous down there and wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible.

The merchant had told him to find someone named _Seul_ , and her shop to the left, so that was where he headed— weaving in and out of the crowds and ducking through archways that supported the ceiling.

He wondered how likely it was to cave in down there and make a rocky tomb for him and all the inhabitants. His breath caught as he realized it was all too likely that something like that could happen and tried to force himself to focus on anything else— he did not need to trigger himself into a panic attack thinking about a cave-in in an unfamiliar place.

Johnny was beginning to wonder if he’d followed the right directions— did he go the _right_ left? How many lefts were there to consider? He hoped it was the left directly from the entry way he’d been instructed to go through.

Running his fingers through his hair, he groaned and prayed he wasn’t lost.

 _Jasmine and honey?_ He caught a whiff of the incense the merchant had described and immediately turned on his heel and was greeted by a large picture window, lined with acorns and just beyond he could see walls lined with books. A smile tugged at his lips as he took in just how many books there were.

As he pushed open the door, a chiming bell sounded, almost magical in tune. The scent of jasmine and honey became stronger as he entered and could see the smoke wafting from an incense burner at the desk where the register must have been.

Aside from books, the shop was home to various trinkets— different gems and crystals, dried herbs, incense sticks and candles.

Deciding to browse the books first, he walked to the nearest bookshelf and started to scan the titles. Some of them were in different languages and some looked older than others. Many of them seemed to center around herbology and occult practices like astrology and wicca. Tucked in between books were also different decks of tarot cards.

The air in the shop felt mystical almost, it had to have been the incense and the gentle woodwind music playing in the background he told himself.

He picked up one book that had a colorful binding, _Modern Herbs for Beginning Apothecaries_. It sounded interesting enough, he guessed. He didn’t think he’d ever call himself an apothecary, or even fancy himself one, but he was interested in plant life so he figured it was a good enough start.

Oblivious to the woman approaching behind him, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a soft voice spoke.

“Welcome, are you finding everything alright?”

He whipped around and nearly dropped the book he was holding.

Standing nearly a foot shorter than him was a beautiful woman with silvery blonde hair woven into a crown of braids with flowers laced in as the rest of it cascaded down her back and deep brown eyes. She had pale silver glitter dusting her cheekbones and rose red lips. Her features were sharp and cat like but gentle and soft at the same time. Johnny thought she was the elegant sort of beautiful— too pretty to be down here.

“Y-yeah, I was just,” he stuttered before gesturing to the book in his hand and then to the shop around them.

She arched an eyebrow and nodded slowly with a knowing smile.

“It’s not everyday I get a visitor from above ground,” she hummed thoughtfully and took the book from his hands, flipping through the pages.

“This one’s a bit dry, not exactly the best for beginners in my opinion, most people will lose interest before they finish the preface,” she tucked the book back into the shelf where he had taken it from, and she pulled him further into the shop.

“So tell me,” she paused, as if expecting him to answer his name. After a beat Johnny caught the cue and mumbled his name.

“Johnny, what brought you down here, truthfully,” she pressed, holding his wrist gently in her hands. Her long nails dug gently into the flesh, not enough to cause pain but enough for Johnny to liken them to claws in his mind.

“At first it was just to sneak away from my dad’s glorified babysitters, but a man in the marketplace upstairs mentioned a bookstore down here, I wanted to check it out,” he explained mildly, watching as she stopped in front of a particular bookshelf near the back. The shelves were a darker wood than the other ones, and engraved with little gold designs.

Upon her wrist were at least a dozen thin golden bangles that chimed as she raised her arm to float her fingers over the spines of books, reading each one seemingly in search of something specific.

“Oh? Not many people in the upper levels even care for books,” she hummed thoughtfully, turning back around to eye him, not with suspicion but something more akin to keen interest as if she were trying to size him up and peer into his soul.

Johnny almost thought she was looking into the depths of his soul— her eyes were piercing in the dim light.

“So I’ve been told,” he laughed nervously, she chuckled in return and shifted her attention back to the books.

“What kind do you like to read?”

“My mother collected classics and fairy tales, like _Cinderella_ and _The Golden Key_ , _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ , things like that,” he replied listing a few of his favorites off the top of his head.

“You like fairy tales then? With wicked step-mothers and fairy godmothers to save the day? Happily ever-afters in magic filled lands?” she sounded amused, but didn’t seem judgmental in the least.

“But you were looking at a book on herbs?” she spoke mostly to herself that time, humming thoughtfully.

“Yeah, my father takes me every year into the woods beyond the walls and I’m actually kind of interested in the plants, we always end up with rashes from touching the wrong things, it’d be good to know what to look out for,” he replied, reminiscing memories that weren’t really there but had been described to him by his father and the different maids at his house.

She seemed to light up with that information and spun around once more, a glowing smile on her rosy lips.

“The woods? You don’t mean the Emerald Grove, do you?” her words were interested and light shined in her eyes at the mention.

“Yeah, actually, that’s where we go,” she seemed to hum with excitement and grabbed his wrist to pull him across the store to a staircase leading to the upper level of her shop. It was darker up there and she lit a candle— Johnny didn’t see her strike a match but how else would she have lit it otherwise? He reasoned with himself.

The stair case ended in the center of the room and all around the walls were bookcases, on the back wall there was a desk and on the right wall, a closed door.

“I have the perfect book for you,” her grin was wide, it nearly stretched from ear to ear and showed off her pearly white teeth— sharper than most other people’s.

She bent over a desk and pulled a key from one of the wooden drawers before walking to the bookshelf along the left wall, opposite from the closed door. Johnny leaned back against the railing to let her pass in front of him.

Crouching down to the bottom shelf, she unlocked a wooden box and pulled out a worn leather book with a painted cover— a circle within a circle with four arrows crossing through it, almost like a sniper scope, and two swans, crossing necks and peering over each other’s backs on either side of the circles.

The faded words at the top read _The Emerald Grove: Flora, Fauna & Fae._ Johnny eyed it curiously, it was no doubt old, hand made even. The author’s name had vanished fully from the cover and the pages seemed worn already, the spine bent lovingly from use over the years— decades or even centuries, Johnny wasn’t too sure.

“Go ahead, flip through it,” she urged, handing the book to him. He was nervous, even if his mother’s books were old and fragile it was nothing like holding a stranger’s treasured book. He eyed her nervously, but she smiled gently and he could see the excitement in her eyes— as if uniting someone with a book they’d cherish brought joy to her.

When he decided she was serious, he took the book gingerly from her. He couldn’t explain it, the book had a certain weight to it that made it feel like it fit perfect in his hands, it felt right to be holding it. Warmth spread through him as he lifted the cover to leaf through the pages.

Rather than being printed like he’d expected, the words seemed to be hand written almost like a journal, with notes scribbled into the margins and pictures of the herbs were painted in with water colors and ink, some herbs were dried and pressed into the pages themselves. He was mesmerized by the book.

When he glanced up at the bookkeeper, he noticed she was glowing, radiant and happy in the candle light. He couldn’t help his own smile, her happiness was just that kind of infectious.

“Wow, this is really cool,” he finally managed to stumble out. The book really was incredible, but it was clear it was valuable to her considering she had retrieved it from a locked chest, so he didn’t really know why she was showing it to him.

“It’s yours, but on a few conditions,” her smile was beaming bright and Johnny nodded in interest, waiting for her to go on.

She tapped her chin with her long fingers as if thinking over her conditions, it worked to put Johnny on edge as he waited eagerly.

“The first is that you must treat her well,” she instructed, brushing her fingers lovingly over the spine. That was a no brainer to Johnny. He would treat the book with the most delicate of kid gloves, just as he had with his mother’s books, if not even more so since this woman was a stranger to him.

“Of course, I’ll treat her better than my own books,” he said, feeling only a little silly for referring to the book with a pronoun other than “it”, but if she referred to the book as “she”, then he would too.

She smiled back at him, content with his answer.

“And the second is that you must come back and visit, it gets horribly lonely here and very few of my customers are actually interested in my wares,” she sighed, almost sounding dejected as she gestured around her shop. Johnny could kind of understand why— no one really read books anymore and those that were in search of books were more than likely only using them as status symbols amongst the universities and were not likely to come snooping down in the Underground for rare titles.

Johnny of course had no qualms against that. Even if he’d only been there for all of thirty minutes, it already felt more welcoming than any of the other shops he’d been to in the Cloud and Sun districts. He felt like this was a place that would come to feel more like home than his own home actually felt.

“Even if you didn’t let me purchase this book I’d return, this place is amazing,” he trailed off realizing he didn’t even know her name.

“Seul, you can call me Seul,” he should have guessed that she was Seul, but he didn’t want to assume in the event more than one woman worked at the shop.

“And I appreciate the compliment,” Seul beamed at him and took a look around her shop and the various curiosities it displayed.

“I’ve spent years getting this place between the right levels of ‘quaint and mystical’ and ‘creepy and spooky’,” her laugh was gentle and musical like bells carried on the wind.

Johnny decided he liked it.

He liked Seul, even if he’d only know her for a short while— not even a full hour, he liked her company, she felt familiar and warm.

“You did a good job, the incense is calming and the dim light is nice and inviting but still kind of magical,” he added.

She hummed thoughtfully before glancing downstairs when she heard the bell chime.

“I’ll leave you to look around, let me know if you need anything else,” she said calmly, peering down the stairs curiously.

“I will, thank you,” at his words she cocked her head and furrowed her brows in confusion for a moment before awkwardly uttering a “you are most welcome,” and disappearing to greet the new customer. He figured with the limited customers she described, not many used niceties like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ so it must have thrown her off.

Johnny decided to keep browsing upstairs for a while longer, intimidated by the other guest and overwhelmed by how new everything there was to him.

Never once had he thought about the occult, or about the phases of the moon and what they meant in relation to people or about a deck of cards that could guide you down the right path towards self-discovery. Being suddenly surrounded by it was overwhelming to say the least, but Seul made it feel welcoming.

 _Baby steps,_ he told himself. He wasn’t going to tumble down a rabbit hole of magic and adventure, at least not any time soon.

He hoped.

His main mission was to learn about the plants and animals that lived and thrived where he was about to visit and learn of anything he could that might make the trip less of a disaster than it had supposedly been previous years. The book Seul had given him would definitely give him that information, but he was curious— he might not be ready to tumble down the rabbit hole head first, but he was interested to see what the rabbit hole had to offer.

Shimmering crystals and glossy stones decorated one of the many shelves, separated in glass and golden dishes, calling out to him to take a look.

Rosy pinks, deep purples, shimmering and holographic whites, spiderwebbed greens, banded reds and glittering blues.

He felt a pull towards a bowl of shiny black stones, smooth and tiny— he couldn’t explain it but he felt the urge to reach out and touch it. The stone was glossy and cold to the touch, there was a weight to it that he couldn’t put into words but it hummed with energy so palpable he could have sworn the stone itself was vibrating.

“Apache Tears,” Seul’s voice sounded behind him— he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard her. Completely taken by surprise, he turned around and stared at her as she leaned back against the rail of the stairs, still between floors.

“Also known as obsidian,” rang out a male’s voice, musical while still remaining masculine. Only a few steps behind Seul, Johnny peered at him over his shoulder. He was a smaller gentleman with narrow cat-like eyes, lithe and thin and dressed all in black. His clothing choice was odd— Johnny had never before had he seen anyone wear a hooded cloak in Neo. It was fastened with a silver broach resembling antlers, and dusted the floor as he walked.

“I have a friend who has an affinity to the stone— says it reminds him of caves he knew as a child,” the man continued, following Seul up to the landing.

“It’s very protective of whoever possesses it, it hates liars though,” his voice lilted as he eyed Johnny cautiously before turning to Seul.

“What is it, four coppers?” Seul hummed with a nod at his question.

“Take it then, it’s yours,” he grinned at Johnny, disarmingly pleasant before ducking under Seul’s arm and into the room hidden beyond the door.

“How gracious of you, Ten,” Seul hummed thoughtfully, ushering the other man into the room beyond before turning to Johnny a final time.

“I won’t be long back here, but if you need anything you have but to ask, Johnny,” The younger man simply nodded at her before turning back to the stones as the door creaked shut and closed with a gentle thud.

He eyed the obsidian in his palm once more before deciding that he did want it, but he wasn’t about to let the other man buy it for him, he’d pay for it himself.

Something stuck him as odd however— obsidian was volcanic glass. What kind of caves were that man’s friend playing in as a child and what kind of parents let their child play in caves near volcanoes? He had so many questions but figured he was not going to get any answers out of the man— he didn’t seem like the type.

Rather, he tried to push those thoughts to the back of his mind and find another book or two he could read for leisure. As Seul was leading him towards the back of the shop he had noticed a section of books that didn’t look inherently tied to occult education.

Curiosity got the best of him, rather than returning down the stairs the way he’d come up he walked full circle around the upstairs and past the door Seul had disappeared behind. Straining his ears he still couldn’t make out what they were saying and decided maybe it was for the better— he had no reason to believe it was business related those could have been her private quarters for all he knew and he didn’t want to pry.

Instead, Johnny found himself slinking down the stairs, nervous to touch anything and afraid he’d break it if he wasn’t cautious. Everything looked so fragile and expensive and he felt the need to prove himself to the woman for reasons unknown to him.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he found himself flipping through the pages of storybooks, colorful covers depicting fantasy creatures and vibrant flowers. It filled him with a childlike wonder, akin to how he felt the first time he picked up _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ from his mother’s collection and dove head first into the colorful fantasy realm of talking rabbits and backwards logic.

Off to the corner, towards the back of the shop he noticed cushions and tables with brighter lamps illuminating the space— cozy and inviting he wondered if Seul would mind if he took a seat while he waited for her return.

Deep earth toned velvet filled with the softest down feathers Johnny had ever felt, once he sat down he feared he’d never want to get up. It was almost like a reader’s paradise and he found himself wishing he had a steamy mug of coffee to accompany him. Here, in the reading nook he felt relaxed and at ease and couldn’t wait to dive into his books.

 _Emerald Grove: Flora, Fauna & Fae_ caught his attention first— that had been the main reason for his visit after all.

Slowly, with ginger hands he lifted the front cover— fully intending to read the book cover to cover in a very literal sense. He could feel the love poured into its pages by its writer as well as the reverent energy of all its readers before him. The book was old, it felt mystical in a sense like it held secrets to the universe and could carry him away on a grand adventure within its pages.

Scrawled in a flowing font that itself felt magical read the words: “ _Bears asleep amidst the trees, Stags are prancing in the leaves, but one soul lies solitary in the night, dancing alone in the moon's pale light, watching over all manner of Sun, Earth, and Moon…”_ some of the ink was smudged and the page wrinkled as if water had corrupted the page— he couldn’t make out the words.

His brow furrowed trying to understand what it meant— clearly it had held meaning to one of the owners of the book, maybe even the author.

Johnny filed it away in a new corner of his mind— questions to ask Seul, a list he was sure was going to continue growing the longer he knew her.

He read through the preface, a brief history of the forest and what it had been before the Great War— alluding to some kind of involvement of woodland creatures the book called the Fae of the Moon. Unsure of what that meant he tucked that question away as well and pressed on.

Some words were difficult to make out, scrawled in handwriting and the ink fading to time, but did nothing to dampen the magnetic pull he felt— drawing him in to continue turning the pages to learn all he could.

There didn’t seem to be a particular order to it, from chamomile to wolves to nettle, it was all well documented and read almost like a personal journal with careful attention to detail and description. The words were easy to follow along and the pictures were stunning.

Every few pages there were also complex symbols and descriptions of what they meant and how to utilize them to harness their fullest potential— even recommending moon phases and stones to enhance their powers.

He still didn’t think that was particularly his cup of tea, but still found it interesting to read about nonetheless— it may not have been his belief system but it didn’t make it any less important to the author of the book.

His mind began to wander to Seul— did she truly believe in this? Were these rituals she had performed before or sigils she’d used to invoke the power of the Moon Goddess?

The thought conjured images in his mind of Seul and the beautiful man he’d seen her with— with the silky scarf she wore around her narrow hips, red, a splash of color to the charcoals and blacks of the rest of her outfit, and the man, Ten, in his black cloak and silver broach.

He imagined them in the woods performing one of these rituals, giving offerings to the moon and praising her for her protection and light— like one such ritual detailed in the book.

“You’re still here?” Seul’s charming voice broke his thoughts as she entered the reading nook he’d been huddled in.

Glancing across the room at the clock near the register he blinked in surprise and felt a yawn bubble up inside of him. A few hours had passed since he’d wandered into the Grass District and the Underground.

“Yeah, uh actually I couldn’t let him pay for the stone for me, and I had a few questions too,” Johnny explained sheepishly as he closed the book with one hand and moved to stand.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Ten must have sensed something in you, he doesn’t typically speak to my customers, I would accept his gift,” she replied and came closer into the reading nook, gesturing for Johnny to sit back down on his cushion as she took a seat in a chair adjacent. Crossing one of her legs over the other, knee length leather boots glinting in the candlelight, she leaned forward and spoke again.

“Tell me, Johnny, what are your questions? Perhaps I can shed some light?”

Johnny sincerely hoped he wasn’t a bother, but nothing in her body language suggested such to him so he decided to go for it.

“Uh so the front cover?” he started, flipping the book open to the cover to show her.

A somber look crossed her face as if the words brought with them pain.

“ _Bears asleep amidst the trees, Stags are prancing in the leaves, but one soul lies solitary in the night, dancing alone in the moon's pale light, watching over all manner of Sun, Earth, and Moon. He can never come nor can he go, leaving naught behind but heartache and snow,”_ Seul recited without needing to read the words herself. Her voice held a tragic yet musical note to it.

“It’s a verse of an old song called ‘A Lullaby of Woe.’” She hummed thoughtfully. Her eyes clouded over as she stared off into the distance— beyond Johnny and contemplated her next words.

“It’s an old song that tells of a spirit bound to the woods, entrusted with protecting its secrets and wildlife, I’d grown up hearing it but never put much belief into it,” she explained almost as if she wanted to say more but held her tongue.

Johnny listened to her intently and seemed to think over her words— it was an interesting idea to him and not something he himself had ever heard of or even thought about. Something in the way Seul spoke almost made him want to believe her though.

“Is it a spirit in the Emerald Grove or is it just a spirit in general that watches over every forest?” he was genuinely curious and hoped that whatever sadness had crossed her face wouldn’t deepen by his questions.

“The Emerald Grove is a place with a deep, primal magic that has been mostly untouched by man for centuries, it’s a mystical place where people with sensitivities to energy often claim to see strange things,” again, she seemed to know more than she was letting on, holding her tongue and choosing her words very carefully as if afraid of saying too much.

“It’s a place where people believe the veil between realms is thin, hence all the strange occurrences, I believe that the Spirit mentioned in the lullaby is bound to one place because of the line ‘he can never come, nor can he go,’” she added when Johnny stayed silent— his eyes wide and full of curiosity.

“Is it malevolent?” he couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out. He felt a little silly asking— not entirely sure if he even believed in the words she was saying, but he couldn’t help the questions that bubbled up inside.

Seul seemed to think— took her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed in thought as his eyes cast down towards the floor. Her energy seemed to shift and Johnny could tell her sorrow was growing. He wanted to do something to cheer her up, but as he opened his mouth to tell her never mind, she began to speak.

“It’s hard to say, Johnny. They say every few centuries the spirit shifts— it’s been likened to a curse really, and if what I’ve been told is true,” her voice started to shake with pain and he couldn’t understand why. If these were all legends why was she taking them so to heart?

“If what I’ve been told is true, the being the curse is shifting to is someone who holds much pain in their heart,” she finally explained, but Johnny had more questions every time she spoke. He didn’t know whether or not he should ask them.

When he looked up again, Seul had schooled her expression and leaned back in her chair. She took a few deep breaths before turning a smile back on the boy in front of her. It was kind of jarring, if he were to be completely honest with himself— seeing her so deeply bothered one moment and then fine the next, it almost gave him whiplash.

“Told by, who? _Ten_?” her eyebrows shot up in surprise when the other asked that. A small smirk tugged on Seul’s lips as she leaned forward once more.

“Why do you suspect it was him?”

Johnny only shrugged and leaned back in his cushion, staring up at the ceiling, noticing for the first time the dark greens and deep navies of midnight, stars painted in iridescent silvers and the phases of the moon arching across the expanse. If he followed it with his eyes he could see the night giving way to dawn with puffy pinks and pale yellows swirling together like clouds and a glimmering sun painted just above they entry way.

“Just a guess, he had this mystical vibe to him, like he knows a lot of things, it might be the cape. No one in Neo wears capes, it’s weird,” he shrugged once more before turning his gaze back to Seul. She couldn’t help but laugh at his explanation.

“Yes, I suppose his cape is weird, but he’s an eccentric fellow,” she gestured vaguely, still laughing softly to herself.

“Does he come by often?” Johnny asked, just curious now— the forest and the spirit fading from his mind, instead now focusing on the enigma of a man.

“Not particularly, I had asked him for a favor in locating someone for me, and it is unsafe to bring this person to Neo and unsafe for me to leave, he acts as a messenger between us,” Johnny nodded in understanding. Security was incredibly tight, especially around the gates leading out and train passes were incredibly expensive and only give to those with transit documents from the government.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say, realizing how unfair it must seem to her that he was allowed to leave the city for leisure all because of the family he was born into.

“You needn’t be, we make it work,” the somber note is in her voice again and Johnny wonders if it was a lover she was separated from or a family member. He could kind of relate.

Although there was no one to act as a messenger between he and his mother, he still felt the sense of loss and longing to hear her voice once more even if he could hardly remember it.

“Is it a lover?” he asked, filter evading him once more. He wanted to eat those words as soon as they tumbled out. Seul simply shook her head.

“Someone who was like a son to me,” and Johnny felt a pang in his chest. Sympathy washing over him tenfold. He found himself spilling to her about how he’d lost his mother and how he longed to hear her voice again.

“I’m sure he misses you greatly, I hope for both your sakes you’ll be reunited soon,” Johnny said, feeling the urge to reach out and hug her though she was a complete stranger he felt he’d known her for years.

“You’re such a sweet boy, Johnny, you remind me so much of another young man I once knew,” she smiled gently, leaning forward to ruffle his hair affectionately.

He decided he liked Seul. There was something calming and familiar in her mystical presence— like she was wise beyond her years and knew the secrets of the universe. The way her eyes sparkled in the dim candlelight and her smile glowed and laugh carried on the jasmine filled air, she was comfort he hadn’t felt in such a long time.

“Thank you Johnny, for stumbling into my shop today and keeping me company, I won’t forget this day easily,” she offered one more brilliant smile his way as they both leaned back in their seats respectively.

“Thank you for being so welcoming, all this is new to me but it’s interesting and incredible and I have so many questions,” he replied back. His fingers traced the spine of the book, the worn leather feeling comforting and familiar in his hands.

“Of course, I’ll be happy to shed light on anything that I can,” they sat in a comfortable silence for a few more moments— Johnny contemplating the book in his hands and studying the details of the cover, committing it to memory, and Seul seemingly lost in her own world.

“Did you want some tea while you read? I still have some work to attend to around the shop, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you need,” Seul finally broke the silence after a few moments.

Johnny peered up from his book at her and thought about it for a moment— he didn’t want to leave and didn’t particularly mind how long he’d been away. It wasn’t like his father was going to notice or scold him for it anyways, he thought bitterly.

“I don’t want to impose, but if you wanted to brew some tea, I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to it,” they both laughed softly and Seul simply nodded.

“I offered, it wouldn’t be imposing on me, just give me a few minutes,” and with that, Seul disappeared into the shop, he could hear her walking slowly up the stairs and he floated off into his own world, mind trying to fully process everything he had learned from her in the course of their conversation.

Opening the cover of the book, now knowing the words that had been written there he could sort of make them out if he tried to focus. He wondered if she’d mind if he fixed them for her later, but it was just as well if she didn’t want him too.

He let her melody play over in his mind, the words were as haunting as they were beautiful. Being trapped and bound to one place for all of his existence was something Johnny felt he sort of connected to. Here in Neo, he didn’t feel like he truly belonged— but maybe he found his little spot of heaven.

Curled up in a velvet cushion in a subterranean book shop that smelled of jasmine and honey, with a steaming cup of tea and his first friend in this hellish landscape, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another long chapter passing the 8k mark. I'm working on an apple playlist for the story in case anyone is interested in the music i listen to when i write this fic (it's mostly edm with heavy violin and one specific video game's OST). Also, on twitter I [posted](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_/status/1234559155895181317?s=20) a few pics of my own little occult library i've been writing the bulk of this fic in featuring a few tarot cards that i've derived much of the core ideas of the plot from 
> 
> I really love to hear feedback from anyone who reads, whether it be praise or constructive criticism, it all makes me so happy. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and please stay healthy!
> 
> [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_) | [ Curious Cat ](https://curiouscat.me/ttaeyongs_)


	8. Chapter VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _7, 6, 5…_  
>  Nothing, I’m still alive.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to everyone who's reading this and those who've left kudos or comments. I never thought that I would even get one comment or even one kudo on this, I didn't think anyone would bother reading. I started writing this as a completely self indulgent story and to see it getting any kind of feedback like this is absolutely unreal to me. It really does bring a smile to my face every time I get a comment or a new kudo and it helps keep me motivated that I'm not actually out here screaming my story into outer space lol So thank you again. Please enjoy this chapter!

_July 22nd, 2127  
Emerald Grove_

When Johnny’s eyes fluttered open, he was no longer fifteen years old in Seul’s shop for the first time, exploring the wonders of an arcane bookstore and being told tales of bears and stags and missing children.

Instead, above him were brilliant eyes the color of sparkling topaz jewels, void of any pupil staring down at him and fiery eyebrows, the color of rubies furrowed in confusion and worry.

They were on Donghyuck’s face but they didn’t belong to him— it was such a jarring realization that caused panic to well up inside of Johnny as his mind finally began processing what was going on. And still, even if his dream was fading fast from his consciousness, words echoed in his brain, carried by Seul’s sweet and somber voice.

“He can never come nor can he go, leaving naught behind but heartache and snow,” Johnny mumbled aloud, the words conjuring up images of the boy with the snow white hair dressed in black, with his black eyes full of so many emotions— he had been reaching out for him before disappearing in a flutter of snowflakes, dancing slowly from the sky.

And the stag. The great silver stag had been there, trying to keep him away from Johnny— protecting him almost as if trying to keep them apart, though he couldn’t understand why.

So many thoughts swirled around in his mind, bringing up more and more confusion and fear as he looked into the concerned topaz eyes on Donghyuck’s face.

“Who are you? What the hell is going on?” Johnny finally cried out, pushing the other boy off him and scrambled backwards before pulling himself to his feet— arms in front of him defensively as if the simple action would keep the other away. Donghyuck tumbled backwards onto the ground, leaves crunching under his weight.

He blinked once, twice, three times and suddenly Donghyuck was standing before him, honey brown hair and dark eyes— no more rubies and topaz. His breathing was getting shallow as he rubbed his eyes trying to make sense of everything going on and being unable to piece everything together. His mind was still hazy trying to discern what was in front of him and what was in his mind— still dreaming.

“It’s me? Donghyuck? Johnny did you hit your head? Are you okay?” His voice echoed and Johnny’s vision began to swim.

For the first time upon waking up, he noticed off to his left was another man— dressed in all black but his hair was just as dark as the clothes he wore. His eyes were bright, though they were narrowed at Johnny, sizing him up and contemplative. The boy with white hair was gone and replaced with this man with coal black hair.

“You!” Johnny pointed an accusatory finger at the other man who simply raised an eyebrow in confusion. The younger man began to wobble, dizziness catching up to him and he reached out for the tree behind him to steady himself as he took deep breaths, still nothing made sense.

“Me?” the other man’s voice was light and musical, playful even as he raised an eyebrow and pointed to himself.

Johnny nodded as he caught his breath once again.

“You were in Seul’s shop that day, you’re the one who bought me the obsidian and told me about your weird friend who played in volcanic caves as a child,” his voice was accusatory but filled with recognition. He hadn’t aged a day it seemed.

The other man’s face lit up when the other brought it up and a smile spread on to his lips.

“Apache Tears, so you do remember _some_ things,” he said more to himself.

“Yeah how could I forget the weirdo in the cape in Neo,” Johnny shot back, confused more than anything.

The other man scoffed, affronted as he fixed the cloak he was currently dressed in, brushing dirt off of it and smoothing out wrinkles. He held his head high, though he was still shorter than Johnny himself, as if to make himself appear larger and more intimidating.

Silver glinted in the dimming light, a broach shaped like the antlers of a great stag.

Donghyuck stared between the two, confusion etched onto his own features as his head turned from one to the other, processing this new information.

“Wait— so you two know each other?” he finally asked, his own voice incredulous seeming to realize he might also be just as confused as Johnny for the time being, but nothing ever made sense when Ten was around— like the universe would bend itself to his will and distort all things that were known as fact and mold them with the impossible.

“I would never forget meeting a Seo,” Ten spoke, disdain evident in his voice that neither Johnny nor Donghyuck understood.

“Seo?” they both asked with differing amounts of confusion and incredulousness.

Donghyuck gaped at Johnny before whipping his head back to Ten, then back once more to each.

“Seo? Are you sure? But he’s Johnny _Jung_ ,” the man in question stared at them, both silent trying to process it, he gazed from Donghyuck to Ten and back again.

“What does my last name have to do with anything?” his question carried on the wind and went unheard by the other two as they continued their staring battle— Donghyuck staring imploringly at Ten begging for answers while still his face read that he couldn’t believe what he was being told, while Ten held a sharp gaze and his facial expression refusing to budge from stern disdain.

“My eyes know what they see and I know what I know,” Ten replied, Johnny felt an ominous air settle around them and shifted uncomfortably as he felt his presence become completely glossed over like he wasn’t even there.

“I really don’t know, didn’t _they_ like… you know?” Donghyuck gestured to his throat with a cutting motion as if saying the words were too impossible to utter and he could only convey his thoughts through gesturing like so.

Johnny was beyond confused— Ten thought he was someone who Donghyuck had thought was killed? His head was pounding and he really feared he might have hit his head when he fell because there was no way this conversation was taking place in front of him, about him.

 _It’s fine, you’ll wake up from this it’s just another weird dream,_ he tried to reason with himself while the two continued to argue— or Donghyck tried to argue. Ten was firm in his beliefs but wasn’t militant or condescending towards the younger boy.

“You do not believe me?” Ten asked, turning his head at an angle, eyeing Donghyuck suspiciously now, his voice remained the same but his posture was beginning to take on a more defensive color. He crossed his arms over his chest, though his body was mostly obscured by his long cloak.

The younger was taken by surprise by his sudden change and eyed the other with narrowed eyes as if trying to decipher a game he was playing at.

“I have no reason to not believe you, but you are not bound to the truth like we are,” was all Donghyuck could respond, his voice taking a cautious tone to it as he watched Ten closely.

Ten seemed unaffected by the words and accepted them for what they were— Johnny wasn’t sure how to take it and looked between the two with his confusion mounting higher and higher the longer the exchange went on.

It was had to believe Ten was the same man he had met seven years ago in Seul’s shop. He seemed so different back then, or maybe the split moment he’d known him hadn’t been long enough to leave him with an accurate impression of him.

Donghyuck and Ten seemed to have a silent conversation with each other consisting only of narrowed eyes and arched eyebrows and inquisitive head tilts.

Johnny was beyond lost— couldn’t understand any of it nor was he entirely sure this whole interaction wasn’t some conjuration of his mind resulted from a head injury.

He continued to peer around the surrounding forest for some sort of sign that the boy with white hair was near by— he couldn’t have disappeared. People didn’t just transform into clouds of snow and vanish like that, but as far as he looked he saw no sign the other had even been there.

Behind him still stood the ruined stairs, crumbling and overtaken by nature as ivy creeped up the sides of it, somehow both beautiful and tragic/

Stealing one last glance at Donghyuck and Ten seeing that he was still going unnoticed by either of them, he turned his back to the pair and walked slowly towards the stairs hoping to find some sort of clue, anything really that would give him some kind of insight into what was taking place in front of him. The ground was still encircled by a ring of snow though the flakes had stopped falling long before he had even opened his eyes.

That was still one of the greatest mysteries to him so far— how had snow been able to fall in the dense summer humidity? Even with the chilling breezes that blew through the trees at night it was nowhere near cold enough for the flakes to fall, let alone stick to the warm ground.

Seul had always stressed the woods were some kind of mystical, high energy place— a veil between realms, but that only mattered if he believed in different worlds coexisting within one universe and it definitely did not explain how snow could fall in the summer. It was only legends and myths.

Given everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours, starting with the events on the train, Johnny wasn’t sure if he was starting to believe or not. Still he held onto the idea that all of this was some kind of fever dream that would end soon and he would wake back up in Neo curled up in his bed or maybe even in Seul’s store after a night of drinking too hard.

As he approached the stairs, the energy in the air seemed to shift— it was humming all around him and the forest felt alive. Alive in the sense that the trees and the grass and the stairs were sentient, watching him, feeling him. The closer he got to the staircase the stronger the vibrational energy felt. It was potent, it was suffocating, his head began to swim with so many different colors and sounds and visions.

It was too much for him. His head throbbed harder, felt as if he was being split open in two. His vision swam and he found himself falling to his knees, clutching his temples in pain as an inhuman ringing echoed through his mind, shrill and piercing it accompanied the splitting ache and thrumming energy.

Before his eyes, everything seemed to double until he wasn’t even sure what he was looking at— engraved on the underside of the stairs was another star with seven points, the Faerie Star, and then on the ground just in front of where he knelt clutching his head was a pile of acorns.

He had no way of being able to know if they were his missing acorns though some were missing their tops matching the tops with missing seeds he had woken to this morning. There were also no trees directly above or near the stairs that they could have fallen from, though he supposed an animal could have brought them to where they now lie.

But something in his mind, a quiet voice lapping at the edges of his consciousness, thought it was suspicious that he had found them where he thought the other boy had been laying— if he had even been there at all.

Nothing was making sense, even as he scooped up the acorns and tucked them away in his pocket. He didn’t know why he was picking them up, only that it felt right.

His head still throbbed and the noise wouldn’t fade he was beginning to wonder if he was going to black out once more— it was all so overwhelming and deafening to his ears, even if the sound was all in his mind.

Suddenly, arms were weaving their way under his underarms, holding tight and pulling him back. He felt his body being pulled back away from the stairs and the further he got the quieter the ringing became— the more his vision began to focus once more.

He had assumed it was Donghyuck pulling him away, however when he looked down he saw the soft black fabric that covered Ten’s arms, embroidered with an even darker hue in spiraling and swirling patterns and laced together up the underside of his forearms with a black leather cord that held the fabric tight against his arms.

On his fingers were several different rings of silver— one with a moon cut from sparkling diamonds, another was a vine wrapping around with detailed leaves sprouting from it, and another held a skull the shape of a deer with antlers sprouting from its head.

Johnny also noted for the first time that his small hands ended with claws at his fingertips, razor sharp like they could cut through him like nothing in mere moments. He shivered at the thought.

Ten dropped him unceremoniously just past the edge of the snow, leaving his body to drop in a heap against the leafy forest floor with a quiet thud. He laid there, staring up at the treetops— Ten’s imposing figure standing just within his field of vision.

“You may be a friend of Seul’s but your companions are not welcome in my woods,” Ten spoke, his voice was low and his dark eyes were menacing. Johnny recoiled away involuntarily, he couldn’t explain the icy fear that settled in the pit of his stomach.

“Saved twice before but no more,” he spoke, glaring down at Johnny with a contemplative look. He felt small, insignificant even under Ten’s scrutiny.

“If he decides to spare you that is on him, though it’s dangerous to be involved with you and I do not wish it,” Ten continued, speaking almost to himself but Johnny felt dread lapping up his spine and curl around his chest, squeezing tight at his lungs.

“Though I could never control his actions— he holds a weak heart of mud,” the disdain is evident, even if the meaning of the words are lost entirely on Johnny. They drift right over his head and carry away on the humid breeze.

“ _Leave my woods and never return,_ ” he spoked once more before turning on his heel. He shot one more look at Donghyuck before disappearing deeper into the woods, fading into the shadows as his cape billowed around him in the dark.

The words rang out in his mind, harsh as if he had been struck across the face and stung him to his core. These woods felt comforting, like home, like everything he had ever wanted and now he was being told to leave them by a stranger. The words cut him deep.

Donghyuck ran over to Johnny and helped him to sit up, his eyes were furrowed, perplexed as he dusted the older man’s back off and plucked twigs from his hair. With a sigh, Donghyuck lowered himself to sit beside Johnny and rubbed his own temples in mild irritation.

“How the hell did you manage to piss off Ten?” he finally asked, he stared with knitted eyebrows. Johnny wasn’t sure the other expected and answer or not. He could only shrug in response.

Truthfully, he had no idea what he’d done to make the other so angry with him. As far as he knew, the only other time he’d seen him was seven years ago in Seul’s shop— a distant memory that had nearly faded from his memory with time, like ink on the pages of books that withstood centuries of use.

“When you were waking up, you said something strange,” Donghyuck started, changing the subject. He ran his and through his hair pushing his bangs back from his forehead and making the short hairs stand straight in the air before settling back down against his scalp.

“What did I say?” he couldn’t recall having said anything— the last few minutes blurring from his mind almost entirely. Everything felt surreal and everything hurt, he supposed from having taken a tumble down the ledge— though his head was still swimming trying to piece together the entire exchange.

“Something about snow? And being unable to leave? I don’t really know, you kind of mumbled it before freaking out on me,” Donghyuck tried to explain but sounding even more confused than Johnny felt.

“Probably words to a song a friend back home taught me,” Johnny murmured thoughtfully, reaching around for his book and panicking when he couldn’t find it. Panic welled up inside of him and his heart began beating quickly in his chest as he looked around the clearing. However, with the sun completely gone from the sky it was impossible to see anything and he began to lose hope. He felt a hot wave of guilt and frustration overcome him as he clenched a fist in anger, eyes still searching wildly for the book.

Beside him, Donghyuck shifted and began rummaging through his backpack, it was enough to break Johnny out of his panic, if only for a moment.

“Here, you were clinging onto it like your life depended on it while you were out,” he handed the book back to Johnny who sighed in relief and inspected the book for any more damage that might have befallen it as he tumbled down the hill with it before holding it tightly to his chest for a moment.

Seemingly satisfied that it had remained intact and in no worse shape than it had been before, he flipped open the front cover to show to the other boy.

“I don’t think it’s the complete song but my friend said it applied to an entity that resides in these woods, if that’s something you believe in,” Donghyuck squinted trying to make out the faded and smudged words but read them aloud.

“That’s almost sad,” he hummed thinking the words over as he handed the book back to Johnny who closed it and set it down on his lap, keeping one hand over it so as not to lose it again.

He chewed on his lower lip as pieces of conversation returned to him and left him in a state of confusion— trying to figure out if they had been bits of his dream or if they had truly happened upon waking. Donghyuck, beside him was shifting and moving to make himself comfortable in the dirt and leaves.

“Ten called me Seo? What did he mean by that?” Johnny finally asked, deciding it was time for Donghyuck to answer his own questions now.

He watched the younger boy carefully as he played with the hem of his flannel. He seemed to not want to answer him, or at the very least seemed to not know how to answer them.

Johnny could see the wheels turning in the other’s mind as he struggled to find the right words.

“You asked him if he was sure, so I know you know, Donghyuck, don’t lie to me,” he added on, his voice taking a more stern tone while the other continued to shift uncomfortably beside him, chewing his lip and picking at his shirt with far more interest than was necessary.

“Johnny I don’t know what he meant, truthfully,” he finally sighed after a few moments hesitation.

And he really didn’t.

Ten’s words had made no sense to him— there couldn’t possibly be any truth to what the older man had said and yet he found himself more and more curious the more he tried to think about it.

“All I know, is he seems to think you’re someone who I know died— we all know it to be true,” his brow furrowed as his voice took on a somber note, as if the memories were too painful for him to think about any longer.

“Ten gets these ideas sometimes, and they’re way out of nowhere and they make no sense,” he added, still his voice was swimming in confusion and left Johnny feeling more confused than before.

The pair sat in silence as the wind kicked up leaves around them and blew through their hair. Johnny had never been in the forest after the sun had gone down until yesterday. It had always been something that his father treated almost like it was taboo. Even Seul had told him about a heavy mist that would rise from the ground and confuse travelers and turn the woods into a labyrinth.

In the distance, he could hear wildlife, bats waking from their slumber and swinging in the treetops, raccoons out foraging for food and even deer heading out to clearings to graze in the moonlight.

It was peaceful, a place that even while he knew of the dangers that lurked within, Johnny longed to spend forever there. With the silver light filtering down through the leaves of the upper most part of the canopy and the glimpses of stars where the trees were thinnest, Johnny wished he could just lie there for a while longer and forget his daily troubles.

“My friend once told me that Ten watched over a boy she saw as a son, does he live near here?” Johnny asked, voice low in the quiet forest.

“I’m not really sure where Ten stays,” Donghyuck hummed and moved to rise to his feet. He cast one more glance around the forest and let his eyes linger on the stairs. Johnny couldn’t decipher the emotions on the younger boy’s face— longing, sadness, anger? It wasn’t his place to ask, he supposed.

“We should head back, two nights in a row, your father might start to worry,” the younger nudged Johnny’s upper arm with a loose fist before tugging gently at his sleeve to guide him away— the opposite direction from which Ten had gone.

“Do you know why Ten told me to leave?” Johnny finally asked, the question had been gnawing on his mind since the words had left Ten’s mouth.

“I’m unsure, it might have something to do with the person he thinks you are,” Donghyuck’s voice was quiet, contemplative as he led Johnny back towards a path that went up on a slow incline.

In the distance, Johnny could sort of make out the shapes of Dandelion and Marigold, idly stomping the ground with their hooved feet and stretching their necks to eat leaves from low hanging tree limbs.

“He said I’m unwelcome though,” Johnny continued as they approached their horses. He reached up and grasped the horn of the saddle and hoisted himself up and over, sliding comfortably into the saddle.

“Ten is real sensitive, he isn’t fond of hunters,” Donghyuck said, doing the same and pulling himself onto Marigold’s back.

“He probably saw your bow and assumed,” Donghyuck added as he nudged his horse into a walk. Johnny tucked his book into the saddle bag attached to Dandelion before following suit and nudging her to follow.

Johnny himself could understand the sentiment. It was something he always felt seeing his father’s rifles and shotguns, or when he slung a string of dead rabbits over Star’s back, or when his eyes locked into the glassy beads fastened into the heads of all the trophies around the lodge.

He hated hunting and didn’t understand the point of it— sure animals over populated but with the majority of people safe inside their walled cities, it hardly mattered.

People were not supposed to live beyond the walls anyways. Very few did, and those that did only did so because they held crucial jobs to the inner workings of the cities.

Mostly they were livestock farmers with land owned by the government raising animals for consumption when the cities had very little room to accommodate livestock in quantities that could supply the whole city.

The ranch that Donghyuck lived on was a piece of government owned land, they raised horses for the cities for instances where travel by train or vehicle was impossible— it was very rare however for the wealthy to even bother with owning their own horses as not many traveled into remote areas when they were a necessity. Johnny and his father of course were an exception.

“After what happened the other night, I’m scared of going without it,” Johnny replied back only loud enough for his voice to carry over the sounds of the horses trotting over the hardened earth.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you, there aren’t many ways to defend yourself against the wolves or bears and they’re particularly aggressive this year,” Donghyuck replied back to him but the conversation trailed off after that.

It was true, and Johnny wondered vaguely how Ten expected him to defend himself against predatory creatures lurking in the shadows of the trees. He was scared to venture off without any means to protect himself, maybe it was because he was from the city where it was never an issue. Donghyuck never seemed to have anything on him to protect himself and Johnny began to wonder if maybe he was overreacting— maybe they weren’t really as much of a threat.

His train of thought trailed off when he recalled how menacing the howling had been and how the wolves had lunged at he and Dandelion. No they were definitely a threat, even if they weren’t prowling at every corner. Had he not been on horseback he knew he never would have survived the encounter— even if he had drawn his bow.

It had been thanks to her and the stranger who had wrapped his injuries at the clearing— and the stag. He wasn’t sure how the stag was wrapped up in the whole situation but something about its behavior had been peculiar enough for Johnny to suspect its involvement— even if it didn’t make sense.

Before long, the trail began to grow familiar to him. He recognized certain landmarks such as boulders or fallen trees and knew he wasn’t too far from his family’s lodge. Perhaps it would be another fifteen to twenty minutes until he was unsaddling Dandelion and heading back inside with Donghyuck in toe to get ready for bed.

He was starving, after not having eaten anything since breakfast that morning and wondered what the maids might have prepared. He sort of hoped it wasn’t some kind of decadent meat— that would have meant his father’s trip had been successful in killing some unfortunate animal.

Donghyuck he knew would be opposed to eating it— he never ate meat as long as Johnny had known him. It was something Donghyuck had always been at odds with the man who owned the stable he lived at over his refusal to eat meat and Johnny sort of admired it.

“I wonder what’s for dinner,” Johnny called out as the stable came into view.

The lodge was in the distance, windows glowing with warm light. He could see the dining room reflecting onto the lake and if he squinted he could see into the room itself and could see the maids cleaning up.

It was late and he knew he must have missed the meal, but he didn’t mind. He wasn’t exactly bursting at the seams to sit through another awkward meal with his father with Donghyuck there too. Meals with his father never felt relaxed and he was always on edge even if it was silly.

“About that, Johnny” Donghyuck sighed as he led Marigold to a stop just before the entrance to the stable.

He swung himself off the horse at the same time Johnny did, both landing with quiet thumps as the gravel crunched beneath their feet.

“I’ll help you with Dandelion, but I can’t stay tonight like I planned to,” he explained with a frown. Johnny frowned in response as he took his horse’s lead and led her into the stable towards her stall.

“Why? Is everything alright?” Johnny asked as he walked past the younger boy who simply tied his horse’s lead to a post and followed Johnny.

“Yeah, it’s just that I didn’t bring a change of clothes and even if the old man said it was alright, I don’t want to leave the horses all to him in the morning,” he explained and Johnny could understand the sentiment. The old man was always there to greet them when they arrived, but Johnny hadn’t seen him once upon their visit which meant he more than likely was feeling unwell.

“I’ll be back first thing tomorrow though and we can go hiking if you want,” Donghyuck offered and Johnny nodded as he took the bridle off his horse, the younger boy working on removing her saddle.

“That will be fine, I don’t know when I’ll be up though, only because I know I won’t be expected to leave the house before the sun even rises,” Johnny laughed finally feeling the freedom of not having to actually go hunting with his father settle in.

“How about give me your code? I finally saved up enough for an older model of a holocomm,” Donghyuck said, fishing a compact device from his pocket. Johnny eyed it and grinned brightly. It might not have been the newest or flashiest, but he was thrilled he finally had a way to communicate with Donghyuck.

The younger pressed a button and a light emitted from the device, scanning his face before unfolding itself so that he could use it. He handed it to Johnny who swiped on the screen projected from it until he found the messaging app and sent himself a quick message to his own device.

He felt his own buzz in his pocket and he fished it out— it unlocked for him almost immediately only blinking a soft blue color twice as confirmation after scanning Johnny’s face.

Sure enough, there was a new message waiting for him from an unknown code. He handed Donghyuck’s back to him and the boys saved each other respectively.

“Okay, I’ll shoot you a message in the morning when I’m up,” he grinned. Finally he was saving a code into his device that wasn’t school or related to his father’s business. He finally had a friend to message and even if it was lame or cheesy he felt warmth spreading through his chest.

“Don’t worry about Dandelion, I can finish up, it’s getting late and you still have to ride back, just let me know when you’ve made it in safe, okay?” the younger boy shot him a questioning glance before turning to leave after Johnny smiled at him and shooed him away with his hands to tell him “it’s fine, go on.”

“I’ll see you at an indeterminate time tomorrow then,” Donghyuck called from outside the stable before riding off.

Johnny finished quickly with Dandelion, brushing her thoroughly after he put her saddle and bridle away in the storage room, and gave her some fresh food and water before heading back into the lodge.

The door was unlocked as he had expected, and walked into the foyer. He was immediately greeted by a maid who offered to take his things from him as well as told him there was still a place set for him at the table and the food should still be warm if he wanted her to fix him a plate.

He contemplated it for a moment before deciding he didn’t really want to dine alone in the dining room.

“If you want to fix me a plate, I’ll eat in the living room, please,” he responded as he slipped down the hallway, hoping to go unnoticed by his father.

He tiptoed down the hallway, after taking his boots off and storing them in the coat closet just off to the left of the foyer. He didn’t particularly want to be stopped by his father and caught up in some inane retelling of the day’s events that were most definitely going to be embellished with tales of grandeur that most definitely were false.

The most important thing to him before all of that was cleaning up and finally getting some food in his system. After those two goals were accomplished then he would humor his father.

When he reached for his bedroom door he definitely felt a sense of dread wash over him as he remembered the state he had left his room in that morning before he left. Of course he knew he had asked the maids to reorganize everything for him, but he still worried that the moment he turned the knob he’d be greeted by his desk blocking the door still and his bed in the center of the room.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he pushed open the door and closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the worst.

However, he was greeted with his room set exactly how it was meant to be— his bed was beside the picture window and his desk was against the smaller window and his dresser was beside his bathroom. He heaved a sigh of relief. Nothing was out of place, nothing was hanging from the chandelier, even the rug seemed to have been shampooed and vacuumed.

Everything was in order and he felt the tension seep from his bones as he allowed himself to relax.

With everything in order, he slung his quiver belt over the back of his desk chair and placed his journal and herbiary on the desk before immediately turning to the bathroom, shedding his clothes as he went, leaving himself clad only in his boxers.

Inside the bathroom he looked himself over in the mirrored wall, turning his back to check to see if he had sustained any bruises or scrapes from his tumble in the woods earlier.

He was thankful to see he only had one bad injury on his shoulder blade— it looked like road rash and was going to hurt as soon as he stepped under the hot spray of the shower. Other than that it was all just minor bruises that would fade in a few days’ time, thankfully nothing that would be visible in his t-shirts so nothing would cause his father’s concern.

Turning on the tap he stepped out of his boxers and kicked them off to the side, before splashing his face with colder water— waking himself up and leaving him feeling just a little more refreshed with the promise of a shower finally. 

As he stepped past the glass doors, he immediately hissed in pain as the hot water cascaded over his shoulder and burned against his injury. He almost wished that he knew the recipe for whatever concoction the stranger in the woods had placed over his wounds last night to hopefully reduced the pain of his new one.

Instead he had to settle for gently rinsing the wound out with water and soap and dealing with the pain that came with it. Overall he was grateful that it was only something minor that would hopefully heal relatively fast. He just prayed he still had a first aid kit under his sink so he could dress it properly after his shower.

Once he was out of the shower and he felt clean, he dug through under his bathroom sink, in search of the first aid kit he knew once lived under there with antibiotic cream and gauze wraps.

He didn’t care if it looked pretty, so long as it kept his wound covered at least for the night— he could have Donghyuck help him dress it tomorrow when he needed to change it.

It wasn’t long before he was pulling on fresh clothing and wandering to the clothes he had strewn about the floor in his walk to the shower. He picked each article up and folded them slowly, however as he lifted his pants, an acorn rolled out of the pocket and he recalled grabbing a handful of them earlier in the woods.

His head throbbed a little at the memory of the stairs and the blinding light that seemed to permeate his memories.

Scooping the acorns out of the pocket, Johnny set them on his desk before quickly folding the clothes and depositing them in the laundry basket his maids had brought into his room for him.

An idea formulated in his head, and maybe it was due to any head injury he may or may not have had— he doubted he hit his head hard enough on anything to have a concussion though blacking out twice in as many days was probably bound to take its toll on him sooner or later he reasoned bitterly.

Forgetting Donghyuck’s warning, Johnny slid the drawing of the Faerie Star out of his journal. The star accompanied by Metatron’s Cube brought a faint smile to his lips as he remembered _part_ of what Donghyuck had told him about it. It was a sigil of protection gifted to him by a faerie who was watching over him— or something like that.

He picked it up and brought it to the floor before the large picture window beside his bed and knelt down, placing one acorn on each of the seven points. He thought long and hard and wondered if it would work, wondered who it would bring to him, if it did work.

Gazing down at the picture, he decided it was missing something and he wandered over to his backpack, pulling out his wallet he fished out a golden coin from it, imprinted with a silver sun on one side, and decided this would also be necessary. If it really was a faerie, he remembered Seul telling him they liked shiny gifts.

As Johnny put the wallet back into the small pouch in his backpack, his fingers brushed over a velvet box. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to remember what else he had left in there. Pulling it out he gingerly flipped the case open and was greeted with a tiny industrial bar earring, silver and shiny with a small sun and moon dangling from one of the ends.

He had forgotten all about the bar— even after all these years he still never got the piercing himself and had held onto it as a reminder to stop buying things on impulse that he couldn’t use. The bar he decided would also make a nice offering, and he walked back towards his little display feeling a little silly.

None the less he placed the velvet box down in the center of the star, leaving it open so the jewelry glittered in the light, and placed the golden coin in the box with it.

All he really remembered was Donghyuck saying that the Faerie Star acted as a portal to the faeries and compared it to something else that he couldn’t remember. If the symbol was protective he really didn’t feel the need to worry about anything, he reasoned before telling himself that he was being ridiculous and nothing was going to actually come of this.

He cast it one last glance before he turned and left his room. There was a maid waiting for him near the door leading to the kitchen and asked him if he was ready for his meal, to which he nodded an affirmative and told her he would be in the living room.

Even from the hallway, he could hear his father watching something on the TV that didn’t even sound remotely interesting to Johnny. He heaved a sigh before entering the room, preparing himself to make small talk that was going to be painful, before crossing the room and settling on one of the plush sofas.

As he sat down, he folded his knees and brought them to his chest as he leaned himself in the corner of the backrest and the arm rest. His father cast a glance to him and turned off the television.

Johnny hoped that at the angle he was sitting it wouldn’t be obvious that he was injured and was favoring his right shoulder. His father didn’t even seem to notice as he began to prattle on about his day once prompted by Johnny asking him how his trim with Kim went.

The maid brought in Johnny’s plate of food, it was a soup of some kind and steamed vegetables and Johnny found himself grateful for the small victory that his father hadn’t brough home something substantial enough for a meal— even if it was a little mean.

His father continued talking animatedly about his trip, and Johnny found himself feeling only slightly bad for tuning him out, especially after he had been so gracious earlier that morning allowing him to ditch the hunting altogether but in the back of his mind, his brain buzzed with excitement. He found his thoughts drifting off to the Faerie Star and his offering.

“It sounds like you and Kim had a lot of fun, I’m glad,” Johnny said as he finished up the last of his soup.

“Yes, it was fun, though I think it might have been more enjoyable with you there,” his father spoke, though his words held no ill intent Johnny still felt his heart clench. He didn’t, by any means, hate his father only found it difficult to relate to the man. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked down at his bowl of food, unable to think of how to respond.

“I only meant that I enjoy your company, son, it wasn’t my intent to make you feel guilty,” he added, his words sounded genuine and Johnny shot a glance towards him with a sad smile.

“I know, I don’t mind your company either, and I’m grateful you understand that hunting is no longer my,” he gestured vaguely unsure of how to phrase it.

“ _thing_?” he added, cringing at how it came out, though his father didn’t seem to mind that it was less than eloquent.

“It was nice talking to you, John, but I have an early morning,” his dad grinned before rising and meandering out of the room and down the hallway opposite to the one Johnny’s room was down.

As his father disappeared, Kim entered the room and Johnny shot him a knowing glance.

“I just wanted to thank you for keeping him company,” Johnny said as the man made eye contact with him. Kim offered a warm smile back to Johnny and offered to take his empty dishes from him.

“It’s not a problem, he was actually relieved today, said you’re always a bundle of stress when he took you with him, he was happy to see you unwind and relax,” Kim murmured back to him after a pause. Johnny hummed thoughtfully and stood from the sofa.

“Have a good night, and be safe tomorrow,” Johnny called out after the butler who was already heading back towards the kitchen. He replied with words of gratitude and disappeared as well, leaving Johnny alone in the living room.

He felt a tiredness creepy into his bones that he hadn’t been aware of earlier and decided it was time for him to head back to his own room for the night. The day’s events replayed in his head as he trudged down the hallway into his own room.

This was only day two of his trip and it was already so eventful, he had no idea how he was going to manage the rest of the vacation if it kept up at this pace. If anything, he thought, he’d have a plethora of new stories to share with Seul upon his return, and that alone was enough to bring a smile to his lips.

Seul adored hearing stories of the outside world— even vapid stories of Johnny’s day to day life above the plates in the Sun District. Even if he thought it was mundane, Seul had found it fascinating to hear about how the wealthy lived, she had even expressed wanting to see the crystal courtyards up above and watch the sunrise and how they’d glitter in the new rays of dawn.

Johnny promised her they weren’t anything special, but she still had wanted to see it with her own eyes to make that decision on her own and that was something he couldn’t fault her in. He was still trying to figure out a way to finesse a pass out of his father or one of his associates to bring Seul up to see the sky.

When he slipped into his room, the first thing he checked was his offering.

It laid untouched on the floor, much like how he had expected.

Johnny didn’t actually think anything would happen, it was more of an experiment, though he couldn’t deny the feelings that there might be something out there, something maybe even magical— even if it seemed improbable.

There was still a sense of childlike wonder in him that hadn’t faded in twenty-three years, no matter how jaded everyone else around him became. He owed it to Seul and her stories of fantasy.

Deciding to leave it out overnight, he approached his desk and pulled his hoodie off to drape it over the back of his chair. Wincing as the clothing got caught on his gauze bandage and pulled, Johnny hissed and reached behind him with his other arm to hold the bandage down while he removed the shirt fully.

He hoped it would stay on over night while he slept— deciding he’d try his luck and sleep on his left side tonight rather than on his right. Usually he was pretty good about not moving in his sleep and stayed in one position for the most part.

With only a pair of loose sweatpants on, Johnny crawled into his bed and pulled the silky sheets up over his torso and pulling his arm up over it to rest on top. It was weird getting used to laying on his left and found himself wanting to roll over onto his right or onto his back.

It was going to be a long night he thought, before reaching out an arm’s length in front of him and grabbing for his holocomm. It was lame maybe, but he wanted to shoot Donghyuck a goodnight message since he didn’t really have friends to say good night to anyways.

When the device opened up, he winced at the bright light. It was blinding for a moment before it dimmed itself automatically to accommodate the dim lighting in the room.

He turned the screen using visual cues with his eyes and selected the messages app and opened Donghyuck’s message. Quickly he typed out a _Goodnight_ and hit send.

It was only moments later that his device pinged with another message from the other boy that mimicked his but added an emoji with the tongue sticking out.

He felt his eyes growing heavy and tucked the device away under his pillow and closed his eyes slowly.

Even if his body was tired physically, his mind was wide awake, racing with everything that had happened since the morning before on the train, to the strange stag in the woods, to his father telling him he needn’t hunt with him anymore and finally whatever exchange he and Donghyuck had had with Ten in the woods.

Everything was too much for his brain to process and the strange headaches definitely didn’t help. He thought to the star he’d seen carved into the stairs at the woods and how he’d never seen it before but suddenly it seemed to be everywhere he turned.

Just as he thought sleep was finally about to overtake his consciousness, he heard the picture window beside him creek, as if the latch was being pride open from the inside.

His heart began to hammer in his chest— from where he laid in his bed, he could see out the smaller window near his desk and the night was still. There was no sign of a breeze or anything that might have warranted his window shaking so violently.

But he also couldn’t sense any shadows that shouldn’t have been there so there was no way someone was trying to break in— right?

The noise stopped for just a moment and Johnny felt his breathing even out and his heart calm down until suddenly the window was being forced open with a gust of freezing air.

He heard the acorns rattling on the floor, and saw the pages of his books over on his desk fluttering in the breeze.

The wind howled and kicked up leaves from outside that drifted into his room— some even settling on the bed and dancing over his head.

It was so cold suddenly and Johnny wasn’t sure it wasn’t entirely fear curling up inside of him and gripping his heart in its vice like hold— chilling him from the inside out in terror.

His mind raced and he had no idea what was going on. It had to have been just the wind, but how the hell was it strong enough to knock his window open from the outside?

Johnny was immobilized, too afraid to sit up or turn over to take a look. He waited with baited breath for the wind to die down, and once it had he almost felt safe enough to sit up.

Mentally, he counted down from ten, if nothing happened in those seconds as they ticked down, he decided he would sit up and close the window.

 _10_ , _9_ , _8…_

Maybe this is my fate?

 _7_ , _6_ , _5…_

Nothing, I’m still alive.

 _4_ , _3_ , _2…_

What will I do?

As he reached to number one, the unmistakable sound of boots hitting the solid floor sent a jolt of fear straight through him once more.

His bow was too far away for him to even hope of reaching for it before whoever was there would get to him.

Swallowing thickly, Johnny steeled himself. If he could survive the burning wreckage of the train that had claimed so many other lives, this too he could survive— he could survive anything he told himself as he grit his teeth.

Just as Johnny sat up and the blanket pooled around his waist, ready to turn and face the intruder, he felt something cold and wet land on his nose— snow flakes falling indoors forming from thin air and dancing in the dark room, melting before even reaching the floor.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do— this was no ordinary intruder. He felt a ray of light in his chest and his eyes sparkle. He couldn’t keep back the invasive thoughts of “ _I’ve done it!_ ”

Not entirely sure of _what_ exactly he did, he couldn’t deny the humming energy in the air, the way everything grew dense and heavy, the way the temperature dropped and flakes began staying a little longer before disappearing.

When he finally had the courage to turn around, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting.

Before him he could only barely make out the shape of a figure kneeling on the floor, obscured by a cloak of inky shadow, examining the offering Johnny had left.

Johnny squinted his eyes, trying to make out exactly what he was seeing— a hooded figure, a pale arm taking the velvet box into its hand. He watched in wonder and awe and still couldn’t understand. He rubbed his tired eyes half hoping it was a dream, some kind of hallucination a result of hitting his head in the woods.

There really was no other explanation for it.

He felt a tickle in his nose, and his eyes widened with fear— the figure hadn’t noticed him yet he could easily lay back down and think of a course of action but the tickle grew stronger and more and more irritating. Before he could stop himself, Johnny sneezed, loud and jarringly in the otherwise silent room.

The figure sat upright and whipped his head around— solid black eyes locked on Johnny in horror as if the one they belonged too wasn’t trespassing and had been the one snuck upon unknowingly.

Their eyes locked, both scared, both holding their breath in fear for the other’s next move.

With the moonlight filtering in and the man’s new angle, Johnny could make out wispy white hair falling into the man’s large doe-like eyes. His lips were parted in shock and if he looked close enough Johnny was sure he could make out a row of sharp, pointed teeth.

His skin was pale and unblemished, glass like and so so smooth that Johnny wanted to reach out to touch it.

The man’s brows furrowed and with one slender wrist he reached up and pulled the hood of his cloak back revealing a whole head of stark white hair shimmering in the moonlight and long ears pointed well past the ends of his hair. With his sharp angled jawline, Johnny thought he was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

He must have uttered the words aloud because the man tilted his head and gazed imploringly at Johnny. His eyes took on a somber tone, sadness and longing filled them as the glistened like polished obsidian in the moonlight.

“You can see me?” it was almost the same as the words he had whispered in the wind earlier right before he had passed out— the same man.

Johnny found himself toying with the golden ring on his finger, twisting it with his thumb and brushing it over the smooth surface.

All Johnny could do was nod, not trusting his own voice or believing his own eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking around through this. I apologize about the pacing this chapter was incredibly difficult for me to write, my inspiration was waning this chapter ;;;
> 
> I'm not sure how many more chapters this is going to be but i'm in the final stages of considering the ending and I'm not entirely sure which one I want to go with, both of them will be a bit bitter sweet but one of them is certainly much happier than the other. Please if you have a preference for which you'd like to see leave a comment below.
> 
> I don't know if anyone actually follows my twitter but I [posted](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_/status/1234694672121024513?s=20) mood boards earlier this week for the main couple and I intend on creating more for other characters once i have the time. 
> 
> Also if anyone's interested I [posted](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_/status/1234559155895181317?s=20) a few pics of my writing space where the bulk of this fic has been written and planned, featuring a few tarot cards that i've derived much of the core ideas of this plot from and they might even give some hints as to what to expect. 
> 
> I know I'm long winded and I say this every time, but I really do appreciate comments they help keep me motivated to write especially when it's tough for me or I lose inspiration.
> 
> [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_) | [ Curious Cat ](https://curiouscat.me/ttaeyongs_)


	9. Chapter VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Mirrored now by child of fae, gone is the Ironborn who cannot stay, return to earth and become a victim of faeries’ mirth.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo whats up my name is kai and this chapter is l a t e. 
> 
> hope you enjoy it. I'm gonna link a [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QcZNoJB16A8) that i listened to on repeat for the later half of the chapter I hope you like it!

_July 22nd, 2127  
Emerald Grove_

Johnny stared back into glistening obsidian eyes, feeling his breath catch in his throat as he toyed with the golden ring on his finger, smooth against the pads of his fingers and warming from his constant touching.

He was dreaming. He had to be. That was the only real explanation for any of this, his mind had conjured up the wind and snow— snow couldn’t fall in doors of its own accord nor could it fall in the sticky summer heat. This man wasn’t really in front of him, he was an image conjured up by his resting brain.

But still, earthy tones and bergamot filled the room as a gentle breeze blew in from the open window, carrying on it leaves from outside and kicking up summer snow that danced through the air— too vivid for him to brush aside as only a dream.

The other man’s words hung in the air, a question phrased like a statement, “You can see me.” A note of surprise and maybe even hope coloring his words as his eyes glittered in the moonlight. The words echoed in his mind as he tried to make sense of them.

 _Of course I can see you_ , Johnny thought as he watched the other man carefully. Even if he were shrouded in a cloak of shadows, Johnny knew what he was seeing— he saw the other man before him, no matter how impossible it seemed— how dreamlike the entire situation felt. It was real. This was actually happening.

Slowly, Johnny nodded and watched the ghost of a smile appear fleetingly on the other’s lips before fading back into the sad expression he wore before. It made Johnny’s heart clench in an unfounded sense of pain.

The other man’s eyes lowered, taking in Johnny’s hands watching them with curiosity as they trembled and he fiddled with the golden ring. The very same ring that had appeared in his room just that morning, having been reunited with him after years.

Johnny followed his eyes down to the ring on his finger and hesitantly covered it as his heart thundered in his chest— the stranger had already seen it but Johnny foolishly hid it as if obscuring it from the man’s line of sight could make it disappear, could make the man’s memory of it vanish. He couldn’t give it up, not after only just gaining it back. It was dear to him, one of the only things he had left of a woman he couldn’t remember.

He shook his head feeling a sense of dread well up inside of him at just the idea of having to give it up so soon—he had hoped the golden coin and the earring would have been enough for the creature and that he wouldn’t feel pressured into giving up the ring once he had finally gotten it back.

“I can’t, I just got it back, you can have anything else I own but please not this ring,” Johnny pleaded, his voice giving away his fear as it cracked and trailed off to a whisper. He held the ring closer to his chest, holding it against his heart as if he could hug it. He could feel the shadowy tendrils of fear and despair creep up his chest and claw at the back of his throat, silencing any more words he may have wanted to say.

“I do not want it, all these sweeps and I never wanted it,” the man spoke softly, his voice deep and melodic— soothing to Johnny’s ears like the tune of a familiar lullaby. He shook his head gently with his words. His eyes softened and a pained smile graced his lips.

“You never contemplated the consequences of parting with something so treasured, you left it anyways and even if you held no regret, your heart still knew pain, did it not?” Johnny could help but feel at ease with his gentle voice, quiet— barely above a whisper. He feared if he didn’t listen closely enough he’d miss it.

As Johnny glanced down at the jewelry on his finger, he contemplated the other man’s words. They rang true in his heart—encapsulated all the complex feelings he had experienced since leaving the ring as offering. He’d wanted to leave a meaningful gift but it hadn’t dawned on him that parting with something so valued to him would bring him pain. He never thought about the consequences, only pleasing some creature he didn’t even know existed.

“You?” Johnny asked, fear still choking him and killing any other words that formed on the top of his tongue. He was not sure what he was asking— hoped the other understood because all language was evading him. It held so many different meanings he couldn’t even begin to convey.

“Me,” he answered, his voice firm with a solemn nod accompanying his word as he placed one hand on his chest. Johnny noticed many rings of silver glinting on his fingers and shining in the pale moonlight, one with a stone as dark as his eyes and equally as terrifying to stare into its depths as if it could suck his very soul from his body.

A sad laugh escaped his lips and Johnny couldn’t understand what humor he found in the situation but knew the sound was painful— everything about the man before him radiated pain and he found himself wishing he could do something to ease it. _Anything at all_ , he thought as his eyes traveled up once more taking in the other’s face— ashy bangs fell into the man’s eyes obscuring them from Johnny who was thankful for an excuse to not meet them.

“Ironside hasn’t changed you much,” Johnny tilted his head, the words unfamiliar to him— confusing. Did he know this man? What was Ironside?

As he opened his mouth to speak— ask questions, a breeze blew in once more causing the paper on the floor to flutter in the wind, stealing the beautiful stranger’s attention from him once more.

Kneeling down once more, the man collected the acorns that had scattered in the vicinity of the offering, hand disappearing under his cloak to stow them away before picking up the drawing with furrowed brows.

 _“Foolish as always,_ Youngho,” he spoke words that Johnny couldn’t understand— a foreign tongue that was as harsh on the ears as it was beautiful like flashes of light tearing through the pitch black sky soon chased by the rolling booms of thunder as the storm drew near.

The stranger sighed as he rose back to his feet and held the drawing out to Johnny.

“What did you seek to gain from this?” his voice took on a harsher tone, anger lacing into his voice as his face twisted and hardened.

“I got what I wanted,” Johnny answered indignantly, arms crossing defensively over his chest, suddenly very aware of his state of undress and just how cold it was in his room.

The man heaved out a growl— not angry, frustrated perhaps or even exasperated as he rolled his dark eyes.

“Are you even aware of how dangerous this is?” he sighed and closed his eyes as if trying to collect his thoughts and massaged his temples. Johnny contemplated the words, vaguely remembered Donghyuck’s warning of how it was best to keep the glyph tucked away unless he absolutely knew what he was doing— whish he definitely didn’t.

When Johnny remained silent, the man took a calming breath and looked down at the drawing, a crude rendition of Metatron’s Cube and the seven pointed Faerie Star. A small smile played at his lips though Johnny noticed he was trying to fight it off.

“Anyone could have come in— especially with the acorns laid out, the fae are dangerous creatures, you simply can not leave this sigil lying just anywhere, you must keep it from the prying eyes of those who might abuse your ignorance,” he heaved another sigh, disappointment coloring his voice as he pushed his bangs back and clucked his tongue.

“Are you one such creature who might abuse my ignorance?” Johnny challenged, feeling a small wave of anger build up inside of him at the other’s words— spitting them back at him.

Rolling his eyes the man folded the sheet of paper, and just when Johnny thought he was going to tear it into pieces he handed it back to him.

“I am not, but there are those lurking this forest that would, you would do well to remember that when you so foolishly decide to display that symbol— it denotes ownership to the fae and I’m quite sure the last thing you want is for a fae to claim this space as their own?”

“It didn’t stop the stupid bastard from painting pictures and rearranging my room last night, and I didn’t even leave the drawing out, just some stupid acorns I was going to give to my friend back home,” Johnny shot back, irritated with the lecture he was receiving from a complete stranger.

His eyebrows shot up as he mouthed the words ‘stupid bastard’ as if trying to understand them.

“I do not fully understand the Ironside tongue— I am assuming a stupid bastard is an insult?” the tone of his voice shifted higher in question, raising an eyebrow at Johnny expectantly.

When Johnny nodded, the man continued, “Then in that case I would argue that I am not the stupid bastard in this situation, it would be the one who left acorns in a window trying to attract faeries.”

Johnny shot him an angry glare as the words sunk in. Whoever this man was, Johnny wasn’t sure how to take him— biting sarcasm mixed with gentle eyes and the softest smile with underlying sorrow.

“Wait? That was _you_?” his voice was incredulous as he recalled the state of his room that morning. It was complete disarray and he still had holes in the wall from the arrows as he remembered the moon phases and his bow dangling from his chandelier.

Johnny was met with a cheeky grin and a playful bow as if he were an actor basking in praise after a production. When he stood upright once more, Johnny wasn’t sure whether he wanted to throw his pillow at the boy or if he wanted to allow his face to split into a warm grin. He didn’t understand his emotions in the least.

“Yes, you invited me, I invited chaos,” he said simply and Johnny decided he most definitely wanted to throw his pillow at the other man.

As he lifted his arm and released the pillow, sending it sailing through the air, his victory was short lived when the pillow smacked the other man square in the head. Johnny hissed in pain, feeling his wound stretch and reopen, the tape from the gauze peeling at his skin and pulling.

The sensation stung and brought tears to his eyes and he quickly lifted his arm to apply pressure to it as if holding it tight enough would cease his pain.

When he felt the bed dip behind him, Johnny opened his eyes that he hadn’t known were closed and held his breath. It was painful to turn his torso to look, but he knew the other had taken a seat beside him when ice cold fingers were ghosting over his bare skin.

He knew it had to be a dream— none of this was really happening. This man was not truly in his room lecturing him nor was he crawling into bed beside him to tend his wounds.

But yet it felt so real, the way he shivered as he felt clawed fingers trace over his skin, a cold sensation traveled down his spine as the other’s fingertips came to rest over his bandage and slowly began to peel back the tape and the way he felt warm breath ghosting over the back of his neck.

Questions died in his throat once more— he wanted to ask what he was doing, wanted to shirk away in fear but his heart told him to be still, be patient “ _you can trust him_ ,” and so blindly he did and couldn’t understand why.

The other man hummed a gentle tune, more to himself than to Johnny but it instilled a sense of calm over him, a familiar tune carried by the soothing lullaby-like voice.

“What have you done?” his voice was back to cautious and gentle notes. The “this time,” hung in the air unspoken between them, resigned and familiar even if Johnny had never before held a conversation with this man.

It was that inexplicable familiarity he felt with Seul, like he had known her his whole life— and maybe he had before his accident he had no way of remembering as the memories grew hazier with each passing day and floated like sand through his fingers.

Like Seul he could imagine this man in his life long before the accident, but that had to have been impossible— he knew he’d never forget this man. There was no way he could have with his piercing eyes and musical voice, the scent of fresh earth and ripened bergamot that clung to him.

“Do we—“ Johnny cut himself off suddenly the words he aimed to ask felt foolish. He had to swallow them back, couldn’t bring himself to embarrass himself like that before such a beautiful creature.

As if sensing the other didn’t want to continue his train of thought, the other boy allowed the words to disappear and fade into the air as if they had never been uttered. Instead he gently massaged the flesh surrounding the wound with nimble fingers.

Johnny sighed and allowed himself to relax into the ginger touches until his hands disappeared and the weight behind him vanished.

He heard soft footfalls leading towards his bathroom before hearing the tap run and the sound of the other rummaging through his cabinets.

The whole situation felt nostalgic to him, as if he had been here before with the beautiful man tending to his wounds wordlessly while he put on his own brave face pretending it didn’t hurt.

His mind wandered back to before, recalling tales of childhoods filled with magical creatures that faded with age. Children who were gentle enough to be graced with the presence of spirits and fae who played with them and showed them a world full of magic beyond their wildest imaginations. Worlds that faded as they grew into jaded adults who couldn’t allow themselves to feel free and think with their hearts anymore.

He wondered if it could have been real— if that could have been his childhood before the accident. If this man had been one of those creatures of magic that graced the lives of lonely children.

It felt foolish to even contemplate and the thoughts faded as the other man appeared once more behind him holding a glass bowl Johnny had kept his hand towels stored in, filled nearly to the brim with water and strips of cloth.

“This may sting,” he murmured as he dipped a strip of cloth into the water, wringing it dry before pressing the cool fabric to his wound.

Johnny hissed at the pressure although the cool water felt nice as the heat dissipated from the wound.

“You still don’t know how to clean your own wounds it seems,” he said more to himself than to Johnny, but the verbiage hadn’t escaped his notice. It only served to fill him with more questions.

“You still haven’t told me what you did to injure yourself like this,” he said evenly, trying to coax Johnny to speak to him.

When Johnny didn’t answer and only hissed in pain as he dragged the cloth over his wound once more, the other man sighed.

“If you speak it will hurt less,” he admonished and Johnny wasn’t sure of the correlation but was willing to try anything at this point as he felt the hot flame-like tongues of pain lap at his back once again.

“I don’t even know your name and you expect me to carry a real conversation with you?” the man’s hands faltered and Johnny felt him recoil. He had a feeling he should be grateful to not see the other’s eyes— his reaction was enough to tell Johnny those words while not malicious had stung.

“Tae, you may call me Tae,” there was a deep sadness in his voice, the kind that settled deep into the bones and grabbed hold of the soul— the kind that painted even the prettiest dawn in shades of gray.

“Tae,” Johnny spoke, tasting the name on his tongue and feeling the familiarity of it wash over him like it was a name he had spoken many times before— though he knew no one with that name, had never met the man beside him.

He felt the other freeze behind him as he heard his own name tumble clumsily out of Johnny’s mouth, heard his breath catch and felt the way his fingers trembled once he resumed cleaning the wound.

“I’m Johnny,” he spoke after a moment, trying to break the tension.

“J-Johnny?” Tae hesitated, the word stumbling out of his mouth, foreign and strained. He seemed to think the name over and Johnny could hear little puffs of breath as he mouthed it a few more times trying it out and still struggling.

“So, Johnny,” he paused after saying the other’s name waiting for approval or confirmation that he spoke it right, to which the other nodded.

“How did you hurt yourself like this?” Johnny let out a puff of laughter, finding it cute that the other man was still hung up on it.

“I dropped an important book over the side of a ledge in the woods,” he explained as the other finished cleaning the wound with the water.

“And how does dropping a book cause you injury?” Tae pressed as he pulled away from him. Johnny felt him shift behind him and heard him pull a metal jar out from somewhere beneath his cloak.

An overpowering scent of peppermint and rosemary filled the air around him and memories of the other night flooded back— a crown of peppermint leaves, sticky sweet honey on his neck, a dark hooded figure reaching out to him before he passed out.

“Tae, you were in the woods the other night, weren’t you?” Johnny completely ignored the smaller man’s question and whipped his head around to look at him, ignoring the sting it brought to his shoulder.

Tae stared back with wide owlish eyes, startled by the outburst and withdrew his hands from Johnny altogether. He blinked, processing the question.

“I spend much of my time there,” he stated evenly eyeing Johnny cautiously as he schooled his expression once more.

“When I fell from my horse and hit my head,” Johnny started, hesitant even now while he spoke.

Tae hummed curiously and Johnny could see the wheels turning in his mind as he dipped two of his fingers into the peppermint ointment he held.

“I saw someone before I passed out and then I woke up covered in peppermint like that,” Johnny explained and gestured to the little container in the other man’s hand.

Instead of answering, Tae delicately placed his two fingers over the wound on his back, rubbing the ointment in gingerly. He pretended as if he hadn’t heard the other and only focused on covering the wound.

Johnny flinched at the contact, it was cool but not in a way that brought discomfort— soothing the inflamed flesh to the point he felt no more pain from his injury.

“What is that stuff?” he was genuinely curious, it smelled potent and it seemed to do a lot for relieving pain.

Tae seemed to contemplate his answer for a moment before answering him.

“It’s peppermint and rosemary with honey. It’s mostly used to reduce pain,” he answered after a breath. More words seemed to be on the tip of his tongue but his eyes showed hesitation— like he was at war with himself if he wanted to say more or not.

Eventually, his desire to speak more won him over.

“When young fae are molting, it’s placed on their backs to reduce the pain when the skin splits open, that is it’s main purpose but it works for other injuries as well,” his voice was quiet, contemplative.

Johnny just listened to him and took it in stride.

He had said _fae_ , as in faeries, Johnny thought. Of course he had no doubt in his mind that the other man was otherworldly— his beauty was ethereal, sharp and soft at the same time with eyes the same shade as the darkest shadows. He had never seen anyone like him before.

Topaz eyes and ruby red hair drifted into his mind and he quickly banished the thoughts— that was simply his vision swimming as he woke from hitting his head. He had seen Donghyuck a million times and never before had he even resembled the glittering jewels he saw that evening.

“Molting?” Johnny asked, his eyebrow raised in question.

Behind him he heard Tae heave a sigh, not annoyed nor exasperated— simply in resignation.

“You ask many questions Ironsider,” he spoke as he finished massaging the ointment into Johnny’s shoulder. His fingers trailed down either of his shoulder blades, resting at the small of his back before traveling upwards again mapping out a trail that felt familiar to him.

Johnny shivered— his back had always been sensitive, always tingled when someone brushed it. He had memories of laying on his stomach with fever and Ms. Kwon rubbing his back to ease his pain. It always tickled in certain places on either side of his spine, and now wasn’t much different. His skin tingled, almost burned at the other’s cold touch.

“You told me to talk,” he didn’t care if his tone came out childish— a pout crossed his lips as he turned and shot the smaller man an indignant glare.

Tae arched one eyebrow at Johnny and the other could tell he was growing frustrated with him just the tiniest amount.

“I did, but now I am done tending your wounds so you need not speak any longer,” Johnny shot another glare at him but the other remained unbothered by it— was cool and nonchalant with a level stare boring back into Johnny’s half hearted glare.

“But I want to continue talking, so I’m asking you what is molting?” Johnny’s voice took on an annoyed tone that he couldn’t help. The nonanswers and nonchalant façade were beginning to get under his skin, gnawing on his patience.

Tae slid gracefully off the bed, his cloak brushed against Johnny’s bare skin sending another shiver down his spine— the softest velvet he had ever felt combined with silky raven feathers. It left him wanting to reach out and touch it once more, to hold it against his cheek and wrap himself up tight in it.

“Are you really so lonely, Ironsider?” his expression was blank but his eyes dared to betray him— sorrow flickered in their obsidian depths and danced with pain and pity.

Johnny wrinkled his nose feeling his frustration mount— why did he insist on calling him a weird name even after he had introduced himself? Why did he continuously evade his questions?

He balled his hands into fists and gripped the quilt around his waist tightly before raising to his full height— towering over the other man by nearly a whole foot. He looked small and fragile now with Johnny’s form looming over him, porcelain skin looking like it might crumble and crack if Johnny pressed too hard.

“I have a name, it’s _Johnny_ , as I’ve already told you, and I’m not some lost creature sleeping under ruins hanging out with deer and breaking into to stranger’s bedrooms, so I can’t be more lonely than you,” he spat back, bristling as his anger consumed him. He hated it, hated feeling so angry especially after this man had helped treat his wounds— but one good deed didn’t excuse rotten behavior, Johnny reasoned.

The smaller man flinched at the harshness of the words and frowned slightly before schooling his expression once more.

“That name is irrelevant to me, but if you insist on answers perhaps not here,” Tae sighed, eyes landing on the door across the room— leading to the hallway where maids could still be heard finishing up their nightly chores. While Johnny didn’t like the answer, when the other man grabbed his wrist gently— skin still cold to the touch, he felt his tension fade ever so slightly.

Johnny allowed Tae to pull him towards the window he had come from and followed as the smaller boy stepped through the opening and stood on the ledge before hopping the few feet to the ground, cloak billowing behind him. His boots crunched in the leaves and gravel as he landed, turning around to offer his hand to Johnny once more to help him down.

The taller man refused his help and jumped to the ground, far less graceful while he stumbled to gain his footing and catch his balance. Tae placed a tentative hand on his shoulder to help steady him to which the taller placed his own larger hand over it, nearly drowning his other hand beneath it.

“Where are you taking me?” Johnny asked him as the other led him away from the lodge and past the stable. The lake was drawing closer to them as they continued to walk and Johnny wondered if this man was about to drown him in the water and disappear like some kind of siren on two legs— or a kelpie in a man’s form he’d read about in Seul’s book.

The rational part of his brain told him that he wouldn’t have tried to help heal his wounds if he was simply going to end up killing him— the other part of his brain continued to feed him a line about how this was all a dream he could wake himself up at any moment, none of it was real and this _Tae_ would vanish when he opened his eyes.

“I want to see the stars,” his tone was simple, only carried to Johnny’s ears by the swaying breeze that rustled their hair as they walked.

Johnny felt bumps break out over his arms and chest, wishing he had grabbed a sweatshirt before leaving the comfort of his room and the warmth of his bed.

“Why do you only answer some of my questions?” if Johnny was truly being honest he wasn’t expecting an answer from him— he didn’t actually seem to be that interested at all in holding a conversation. He acted as if doing so would cause him pain of some kind— the words would pierce through his skin and cut him deeply.

Tae’s boots thumped over the pier, echoing around them as Johnny’s bare feet slapped against the wood. He walked to the very edge of the pier— so close his toes hung over the edge and Johnny was convinced he’d keep walking and disappear in to the dark water.

Of course his question hung in the air, even as Tae crouched into a sitting position, knees to his chest as he worked on unlacing his boots and tugging the strings to pull his legs out free of their leather confines.

The whole scene felt nostalgic to Johnny as the other removed his boots, setting them off to the side and revealing pale legs and pants the ended just below the knees. The man hugged his knees closer to his chest and Johnny moved to sit beside him, rolling up the legs of his own sweatpants and dangling his legs into the chilly water.

Beside him, Tae’s arms wrapped around his legs clasped in front of his ankles as he tilted his head back. Onyx orbs staring fixated on the glittering stars, the pale column of his throat exposed as his skin seemed to glow in the moonlight.

“They’re like a million little diamonds in the sky,” he commented in wonder, as if it were his first time staring at the stars. Johnny tilted his own head back and hummed in agreement. He was more of an early morning person, preferring to watch pinks and yellows overtake the night sky with a golden dawn than he was a late night stargazer, but out here he had to admit without the city lights polluting the sky the stars felt magical.

“They’re pretty,” he commented lamely, even as his eyes traveled down from the sky and locked onto Tae’s sharp jawline and his long pointed ears that glinted with silver jewelry.

Tae hummed and turned his gaze to meet Johnny’s— who quickly turned his head with a nervous blush, embarrassed he was caught staring. The smaller man furrowed his brows and tugged the hood of his cloak over his head, obscuring himself from view before tilting his head forward and gazing out over the lake.

All Johnny could make out of the other’s face was his little nose and pouty lips that were drawn into a contemplative line.

“Tae?” Johnny asked.

“Yes, Johnny?”

Johnny hesitated, chewed on his lip as he wrestled with his brain for wording a question that seemed impossible to spit out.

When he didn’t answer right away, the smaller man turned his head to face him, dark eyes filled with a fleeting concern before hardening back into a neutral and disinterested look.

The words were at the forefront of his mind, but arranging them into a meaningful sentence felt impossible, words dying on his tongue as he swallowed thickly suddenly feeling tiny under his gaze— like Tae could see right through him and saw something even Johnny wasn’t even aware of.

He didn’t like how it made him feel— didn’t like feeling vulnerable in front of this strange man who’s eyes sparkled with what felt like the secrets of the universe. Dark and intelligent like they knew things and had seen things they never should have but did anyways.

“Let’s play a game,” Johnny finally said. Tae tilted his head to the side and his eyes narrowed in confusion but he remained silent, only slightly nodding his head to tell the other to continue.

“I ask you a question, you answer, you ask me a question and I answer,” he felt silly asking to play such a juvenile game, but he hoped it would coax the other into finally answering his questions instead of leaving him with more and not providing answers to the original ones.

Tae seemed to ponder it, turning to look back out over the lake.

He shook his head.

“I have nothing I wish to learn from you,” he said coldly but Johnny felt the hesitation there, heard the tiny notes of pain that laced themselves into his words.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t need to.”

Silence hung in the air surrounding them, palpable and dense. Johnny felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment again for even thinking such a plan would work. Tae very clearly had things on his mind and indeed held answers that he didn’t want to let go of— wanted to keep them buried inside and would likely keep them that way until his body froze over and the light vanished from his eyes.

“What do you wish to know?” Tae finally spoke, rested his head on his knees and watched the water ripple as fish swam too close to the surface. His tone was quiet, so so quiet, and Johnny began to wonder if he even knew how to raise his voice and speak in a louder tone.

Johnny too gazed out over the lake, following its shoreline to where it opened wider into its tributary directly adjacent from them and disappeared into the horizon where mountains scraped the skyline.

“You evaded my questions earlier, why should I believe that you’ll answer them now just because you asked me what I want to know?” he finally asked.

Tae remained silent beside him, remained stationary. He almost believed that the other wasn’t there anymore, just a figment of his imagination that was going to fade the moment he turned back to face him.

“Molting is what it sounds like,” Tae said, still wouldn’t look at Johnny but Johnny didn’t miss the way the other’s back seemed to arch slightly and ripple.

“It’s when faeries get their wings, it’s incredibly painful and the medicine I put on your back helps soothe the pain from it to make it more bearable,” he explained and pulled his cloak tighter around him, stretching it taught over his back.

“So every time an infant laughs for the first time, a faerie doesn’t gain its wings?” It was meant as a joke and when Tae turned a deadpan expression that held no amusement in it, Johnny couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled deep inside his chest.

“Wait, I think I feel them sprouting now that an idiot has laughed,” his voice was dry and Johnny only laughed harder, watching as Tae’s cloak twitched at his back when he let go from holding it so tightly.

“Can I see them?” Johnny asked before his brain could catch up to his words. His arm reached out to the plush fabric the other wore, fingers brushing over the velvet as the smaller man pulled it tight around himself again.

“They’re nothing to see,” he said simply as his expression darkened and turned back away from the other man, and Johnny wondered if that had been an inappropriate question when he noticed the other man was staring at his bare feet— wiggling his toes over the edge of the pier.

Johnny stayed silent and Tae shifted awkwardly and pulled his hood back over his eyes, retreating into himself and holding on tightly to his legs.

“They’re ruined and ugly,” he mumbled, insecurity rolling off him in waves and Johnny felt his heart clench— hand moving of its own accord and smoothing over the other’s back where he assumed the wings were hiding.

Tae shivered under his touch and recoiled slightly with a hiss., turning his torso so that his back was away from Johnny.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered as he pulled his arm back and set it on the pier.

“Do they hurt?” he asked. Tae shook his head.

“It happened over twenty sweeps ago,” Tae sighed and allowed the hood to fall from his head as a particularly strong gust of wind blew over the lakefront. He watched as it ruffled Johnny’s mahogany hair and held his legs tighter to keep himself from reach out to the other man to fix his hair.

“What’s a _sweep_? Johnny asked, mind filling with more and more questions every time Tae opened his mouth. The other pursed his lips and chewed on the inside of his mouth contemplatively. Johnny almost felt bad for the amount of questions he had but everything was so intriguing and he wondered if he’d ever have this opportunity again.

“Depending where you are from it is either counted by the Solar Eclipse or the Lunar, usually only two happen every Cycle, which I think are the equivalent to _years_?” the final word tasted foreign on his tongue and he didn’t like how it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“So twenty sweeps is how you would say ten years ago?” Johnny hummed in thought before watching the other nod in confirmation.

It was so weird to him— universally everyone counted time the same way and yet there Tae was introducing new concepts to him, intriguing and mystical— an entire system based on astrological occurrences that don’t have a set measurement of time rather than a set calendar.

“It can mean that I suppose, though for the exact measurement it would be better to say ten Cyles,” Johnny groaned trying to understand it all but figured unless he was used to it and had practiced it his entire life he’d never really understand it.

Silence hung in the air between them, Tae moved back to the edge of the pier, facing away from Johnny and allowed his legs to stretch out in front of him before dropping into the cold water like the other.

He kicked his legs slowly and watched as the water rippled around them, listened contently to the soft swishing noises the water made as his legs moved it around.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did it happen? Did you get into an accident?” Johnny’s voice held so much curiosity that Tae couldn’t help the sad smile that played on his lips. His questions were so innocent, like a child’s and he had no inkling of the pain any of them caused him— reopening wounds in his heart he had long since thought healed.

Tae took in a deep breath before unclasping the cloak around him, allowing it to fall to the dusty pier. He made no move to unfurl his wings however, leaving them hidden underneath the black jacket that clung to his form, hugging the contours of his torso.

His eyes more into the water as if contemplating jumping into the water and deciding if it would be too difficult to swim with his jacket on or not. As he wrestled with the idea, Johnny scoot himself just a little closer to the smaller boy and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Johnny’s own voice was quiet and comforting but still firm, reminding the other that the power was in his hands— wasn’t going to force him to say anything he didn’t want to reveal.

“I committed a crime and it was my punishment,” he simply stated and slid himself closer to the edge, still toying with the idea of submerging himself completely in the inky depths of the lake.

Instead he leaned himself back, allowing his head to thump gently against the dock below him and stared up at the sky reading the stars and constellations— remembering the stories they told and smiling in their comfort as he felt their light beam down on him. Comforting him like a blanket and coddling him like a child.

Maybe the words should have made Johnny wary— admitting to having committed some kind of deed that went against the laws of his people and warranted something that seemed so severe to him. He couldn’t begin to understand what kind of crime would result in being maimed— even his own people while barbaric in their own rights had abolished the death penalty centuries ago

He decided if Tae was going to harm him, he would have already— wouldn’t have wasted his time trying to fix his wounds.

Maybe this was his crime— maybe it was forbidden to mingle with non-fae and he had broken that law, was continuing to break it.

He decided even if he was harsh and closed off, Johnny liked Tae, wanted to get to know him better and he found himself uttering the question that had been on his mind earlier that night when Tae had first started cleaning his wounds.

“Do we know each other?”

Tae seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in— mind fogged by the musical notes the stars sang to him as he stared at their beauty. He blinked at Johnny twice before taking another deep breath— something Johnny noted he did a lot any time he was preparing to answer questions.

When the other stayed silent and turned on his side, pulling his legs from the water and curling them so that only his feet hung over the ledge, dripping puddles of water all over the wood and seemingly not caring, Johnny did the same and faced the smaller man.

Their faces were only inches apart and Johnny could feel his warm breath fanning over his face and sending shivers down his spine, contrasting to the chilly night breeze that blew over his bare chest.

Like this he could see Tae’s face so clearly and reached forward to brush his bangs from his eyes, leaving the other feeling vulnerable and exposed in front of him— but rather than fear or anxiety Johnny noticed the other man looked to be at ease with their proximity.

He felt himself relaxing, as if he were revisiting a scene from a distant memory— like lying side by side with Tae were the most natural thing in the world to him. Like being with Tae somehow completed everything in his mind.

Gingerly, Johnny brushed the other’s high cheekbones and watched the other flush deeply at the action and avert his gaze.

 _Yes_ , Johnny thought to himself.

“I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but Tae you and I know each other from somewhere, don’t we?” there was no other explanation for the warmth budding in his chest from simply being so close to the other man.

The faintest ghost of a smile that crept across the other’s face and the glimmer of hope that danced in his eyes was confirmation enough to him. He couldn’t explain his urge to wrap his arms around the other man, but he fought to keep it at bay. They might have known each other at some point, but he still couldn’t picture the nature of their relationship and instead settled for simply embracing the light swelling in his chest.

“I might not remember you, Tae,” Johnny started, breath still caught in his throat as he really took in Tae’s beauty and the way his eyes seemed so alive and almost happy now at this revelation.

“But I knew I wouldn’t forget meeting someone like you,” he finshed. Tae let out the softest puff of laughter and reached out to cup the other man’s jaw before brushing his clawed hand upwards and pushing back the locks of hair that obscured the side of his face and threatened to fall into his eyes.

“That seems counter intuitive,” he sighed before a sadness crept over him again and his eyes seemed to glaze over once more.

“How do we know each other?” Johnny asked, holding Tae’s hand in place as he threatened to draw away from him once more.

Tae shook his head, the sorrow etching across his face was mirrored on Johnny’s own.

“It is not my place to say, just know that not knowing is better for you,” his voice shook and Johnny couldn’t relinquish the urge to scoop the smaller boy up into his arms and hold him tight until everything was alright once more.

“Better for me how?”

Tae was looking over Johnny’s shoulder, avoiding his gaze and whatever he saw caused his face to harden once more and retreat within himself again.

When Johnny turned his head to see what the other had seen his brow furrowed as he only caught the back end of a great deer bounding into the woods and disappearing into the shadows.

“There are those that want to harm you and those that wish to keep you hidden away, and by coming here year after year you endanger yourself,” his words were cryptic and left fragments of his train ride to the woods resurfacing in his mind, images of Metatron’s Cube and the Faerie Star being etched into ice, the circle with the arrows through it— echoes of Donghyuck’s words of how whoever drew the sigils for him meant to protect him.

Snow and ice stood out vividly to him, how it followed him everywhere since the start of the trip and how it seemed impossible for it to fall now in the midst of summer and how every time one of these symbols surfaced they were always accompanied by snow.

Pure, white snow that resembled the silvery locks on Tae’s head— snowflakes that danced in his room when Tae had appeared earlier that night. Snow that seemed to follow _Tae_ everywhere he went.

“The train, that was you! With the ice and Metatron’s Cube and the star and the protective sigil on my window this morning, Tae what are you trying to protect me from?” he asked, whipping his head back to face him.

Tae shrunk away and took his lip into his mouth— delicate skin frayed with his nerves as he continued to chew despite how raw it was turning.

“I can not interfere with either agenda, I must remain neutral in their conflicts but I must protect those in danger who can not protect themselves, such is the way of these woods,” his voice trailed off, and Johnny was tired of him staying cryptic and not sharing everything he knew with him.

“The way of these woods? What does that even mean?” Johnny sat up, rubbing his head in frustration, groaning to himself trying to wrap his head around anything— felt resentment bubble up towards Tae.

Felt the resentment fizzle out as arms were draping themselves over his back and a firm chest press against his back as the arms interlocked and held him tight.

Calm. He felt calm and safe. Earth and bergamot. A familiar and peculiar combination that eased his nerves and soothed the anger welling up inside him.

He couldn’t be sure Tae wasn’t working some kind of faerie magic to keep him complacent, but it felt so good that he didn’t care even if he was.

“It’s better you not know, but even if my hands are tied I will do whatever to ensure your protection,” Johnny couldn’t even begin to fathom what that meant and then more words fell from his mouth that caught Johnny off guard.

“Beware of the one you call Donghyuck, I don’t know his allegiance.” Johnny’s blood ran cold in his veins and thought of the other boy. His soft eyes and musical laughter, the way his face would crease with dimples whenever he laughed— his first friend.

Tae held him tighter and Johnny felt himself wanting to break free of his hold and with the first sign of struggle, Tae let go and slid back away from him and pulled his knees back against his chest sitting back on his haunches.

“He said whoever drew these symbols for me was trying to lend me their protection, told me to cherish it and not leave it out for prying eyes,” Johnny said evenly as he watched Tae carefully. The other man simply nodded as if agreeing with Johnny’s words.

“And Seul, she told me the circles with the arrows was a sigil of protection made from the Children of the Forest,” Tae’s eyes widened at the mention and his breath caught.

“You know Seul?” and Johnny nodded, shocked that the other knew her as well.

“How do you know her?” he asked. Tae reached up and unbuttoned his jacket, starting with the buttons on one side of his chest before moving onto the other. When he shrugged it off he revealed a black undershirt embroidered in pale green with a high neck and an open back from which he unfurled his wings.

Johnny stared in awe, transparent silver gleaming in the moonlight, sparkling like stars. His eyes traveled the impressive wingspan until they landed on the left wing—crooked and frayed at the ends with shredded claw-like tears partway down. He felt a sadness wash over him. They were gorgeous— much like Tae himself and far too beautiful to be ruined like this.

“Seul looked after me and helped heal it as best she could so that I wouldn’t have to get it removed,” he fluttered his wings gingerly and Johnny could see it was much weaker than the other one and doubted it would support flight, but he was still in awe. They truly were one of the most beautiful things he had ever laid eyes on.

“Removing it runs the risk of damaging all control over the left side of my body,” he explained with a frown.

“And the person who did this to me would probably have taken great pleasure in that, so Seul helped heal it just to piss her off,” the smaller man added.

All those years ago, he remembered how Seul had told him of a boy she viewed as a son who she had been separated from— recalled how she would become sad anytime she spoke of him but how her eyes would light up lovingly at the same time. He remembered how she kept acorns in her windows and how he now knew they were to attract fae.

He found himself wondering if the acorns were meant for Tae— to invite him back home to bring him to her, wondered if Tae was even the boy she had mentioned all those years ago. Considering Ten had appeared right after Johnny had seen him for the first time in the words, he thought the likelihood was very possible but any questions he had would have to be asked later as all he could focus on were the silvery wings that protruded from Tae’s back— he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Without realizing, he raised a hand before lowering it, thinking better of it. They were so unlike anything he’d ever seen.

“Can I touch them?” he finally asked. Tae’s face flushed a deep scarlet as his wings fluttered behind him, he watched in disappointment as the smaller man shook his head refusing to look him in the eye after the question.

“Is that not something I should ask?” Johnny asked nervously, scared he made the other man deeply uncomfortable. Tae’s flush traveled down his neck and shifted uncomfortably as he folded his wings back down against himself and pulled his jacket back on— obscuring the wings from Johnny entirely.

“It’s uh, they’re just really, uh,” he shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with his buttons to cover himself back up.

“It’s just taboo to touch another faerie’s wings,” he said finally, hoping Johnny caught on to what he was implying so as not to embarrass the other man for his curiosity.

“Is it like a…?” his words trailed off as he tried to put two and two together.

“It’s a mating thing,” he finally spat out, face taking on a bright red hue once more as he turned to look away. Across from him he could sense Johnny’s own flustered embarrassment as they refused to look at each other once more.

“I didn’t know, I’m sorry,” his tone was still embarrassed, he felt the heat spread down his neck and over his chest and wished once more that he had some kind of shirt to cover himself with and cursed himself for not grabbing anything.

They sat in an uncomfortable silence, neither knowing how to break the tension between them until Tae rolled to lay back down— facing the sky and losing himself in the stars once more. Johnny found himself staring at him, still amazed how someone so beautiful could exist and still trying to wrap his head around everything he had learned in their short time together.

It was surprising how natural it all felt, Tae by his side as he gazed up at the stars and murmured soft words in some foreign tongue that Johnny couldn’t interpret— found himself wanting to lay back down and stare at the night sky with him and learn about what the other was saying to himself— and so he did.

Johnny found himself laying back down as well, closer to Tae than maybe was necessary, but if the other minded he didn’t say one way or another— just welcomed Johnny back down and took his hand in his own. He used it to point to the stars, map out the constellations and whisper their stories. Told him of forbidden lovers who were sentenced to spend eternity just out of each other’s grasp, stories of how the hero would rescue the heroine from danger and win her love and birth galaxies together.

Tiredness began seeping into Johnny’s bones, clouding his mind and making his eyelids droop thick and heavy with sleep. The weight of Tae’s cloak resting over his exposed skin warming him and comforting lulling him into a sense of safety to close his eyes.

Beside him, he could tell Tae was wide awake, a nocturnal creature at heart as he continued telling Johnny stories about the sun and the moon and all the stars in between. He could listen forever to the excited lilt to his voice, but worried he might listen forever to it and never want to hear anything else— it was already becoming his favorite song as it was.

“Hey Tae?” the other stopped midsentence and turned to look at the man beside him, allowing his words to taper off and hang in the late night air.

“Yes?” It was a simple word, but Johnny couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips having the other’s attention focused on him.

“I know you said it’s best I don’t know anything, but I don’t remember anything, my own childhood, my mother— nothing,” Johnny started. The late night sky bringing with it a sense of openness and vulnerability, erasing any filter he might have had otherwise.

“I was in an accident when I was fourteen and lost my memories, I just wonder if I know you from before that point in my life or after, just so I can make sense of this,” he continued. Tae’s eyebrows furrowed together in pity. One of his slander hands reached out for Johnny’s cheek and his dark eyes searched Johnny’s own.

“Before, after, present, future,” a longing sigh left his lips as his fingers traced down his jaw to his shoulder and worked its way down his arm before taking his hand into his own, thumbing over the golden ring.

“I don’t understand,” Johnny murmured as he watched the other man play with his ring, twisting it between his fingers.

“I’ve always been here, will always be here, you’ve just never been able to see me before,” he spoke softly and moved to squeeze Johnny’s hand in his own and the other man watched Tae closely, squeezed his hand back.

“We met as children?” Tae nodded simply.

“I was seven you were eight, I was terrified and you befriended me even when your mother told you not to,” a bitter laugh escaped him.

On the horizon, Johnny could make out the sky fading into pale shades as the darkness began to disappear, he could hear birds singing in the trees and the forest begin to stir with life. Beside him he could see a tiredness begin to seep into his companions face as well.

His mind began to race back to the lodge— the maids coming to rouse him for breakfast soon, his father rising to get an early start on the day. Panic gripped him at the thought of being discovered out there on the pier with a strange man they had never met before.

Tae seemed to pick up on his distress and cast one last glance over the lake as the sky lightened before rising to his feet. He took his cloak back form the other boy and pulled it on over himself and slipped himself back into his knee length boots, not bothering to tuck his pant legs in neatly as he laced them back up.

He extended an arm out to Johnny to help him raise to his feet, their hands lingering a moment longer than necessary as Tae helped him steady himself.

“We should get you back to your bed,” there was a somber tone to his voice that Johnny didn’t like, but the exhaustion began to settle deep into his very core and found it difficult to even stay awake any longer.

“But what about you, Tae? What if they see you?” Johnny asked while the other boy led him back the way they had come, a gravel and dirt path that bit at Johnny’s bare feet, a short ways from the window they had climbed from.

“They will not, only you can see me,” he assured him, voice confident and face steeling itself once more as they approached the window.

“How can you be so sure?” Johnny didn’t care his voice was petulant— he just wanted to ensure that Tae would be safe from the prying eyes of his father and the maids.

“You are the only one who bears that ring,” he hummed, and Johnny instinctively ran his thumb over the golden jewelry.

It didn’t take long for Tae to help Johnny back into his room and tuck him into his bed. It was warmer in there than it was out on the pier, but somehow he still felt cold— missed Tae being so close to him, missed feeling the heat radiating from his body even when his touch was cold.

He missed gazing into those deep obsidian eyes and watching how they sparkled as he spoke to Johnny about the stars and told him their stories, explained to him how each constellation had its own voice that only some people could hear— bragged about how he was one of the few people who possessed the knowledge of how to hear it.

“Will I see you again Tae?” Johnny called out, hating how pathetic his voice sounded when the other had pulled himself to stand up on the window ledge to leave.

The smaller man turned to peer over his shoulder and gave him one last sad smile.

“I hope we meet again, _Youngho_ ,” and with that he leapt from the window and disappeared into thin air, swept away in a whirlwind of snow and wind that blew through Johnny’s room once more like it had when he arrived hours ago.

The books on his desk flipped open and the wind blew their pages until it died down.

 _Youngho_ , Johnny thought. Tae had used that word twice and he had no idea what it meant but it tasted familiar to him, sounded beautiful rolling off Tae’s tongue and he wanted to hear him say it again— wanted to hear the man say it like a mantra repeated over and over, just wanted to hear it in Tae’s beautiful voice forever.

He closed his eyes with a groan, he wanted to banish that train of thought before it continued and hated himself for the fact that the first man in years to touch him so tenderly and stare at him so intensely, his brain was already jumping at the chance to fantasize about. He hated how his mind was recalling the silver wings and the flushed embarrassment the smaller man felt when Johnny had expressed wanting to touch them.

Even the knowledge that it was something reserved only for mates, Johnny couldn’t help himself from still longing to touch them and feel them under his fingertips— imagined the flushed and breathy wines that might escape his lips as he traced them.

Johnny shot up in his bed and opened his eyes, hating where that train of thought was going and never wanted to derail anything so fast in his life. He barely even knew Tae even if the other had hinted at having known each other before his accident— it didn’t make any of it less embarrassing that hearing the man say one word was enough to throw him over the edge after having been starved of romantic affection for years.

He needed to clear his mind before he fell asleep— afraid of where his dreams might wander to if he didn’t shake the thoughts from his mind before sleep took over his brain entirely.

Rather, he turned his head towards the desk where his books were resting and decided he would get up and maybe read a little bit if only to distract him and feed his brain a new line of thoughts before dreaming of something that might embarrass him further.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Johnny stood on wobbling legs and crossed the room to his desk before reaching down to close the books Tae’s wind had blown open.

First he looked at his own journal, it was open to a page about hemlock he had entered into the book last year on one of his last days of the hunting trip— his father had wandered off in the woods and left Johnny on the cliffs near the waterfall where he had sat on a rock drawing in his journal and entering information on the deadly plant.

Beside it laid Seul’s herbiary. It was open to a peculiar page that Johnny closed around his finger to bookmark as he walked back to his bed.

It was one of the fantastical entries that before he would have read with a grain of salt, but after meeting Tae, his mind was reeling and he began to really let the information trickle into his brain and get filed away in the same place information of plants would get stored in— the factual side.

Once settled in his bed he flipped open the book to where it had been left by the wind. Across the top of the page was a word smudged and faded that he couldn’t quite make out. Curiosity gnawed at him despite his tired eyes, pictures of children and little faeries littered the pages in between words that barely registered in his tired brain.

The last words he read before finally sleep took over echoed in his mind as sleep, “ _Mirrored now by child of fae, gone is the Ironborn who cannot stay, return to earth and become a victim of faeries’ mirth.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back and forth on this chapter, I don't know how i feel about it. On the one hand i really love it. on the other hand, i feel like it does little to progress the story in any real meaningful way until the very very end. Literally like the last line. 
> 
> Currently I'm running a [poll](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_/status/1235620739212103680?s=20) on my twitter as an interest check for the next story I'll be writing as we are approaching the midpoint of this one. There's still some time left to it if you'd like to participate. 
> 
> Please if you liked it it would mean so much to me if you left a comment.
> 
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	10. Chapter IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Youngho Seo, trust me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is doing well. I apologize so much for how late this chapter is. Ever since this pandemic took hold in my country I have been forced to work about 80 hours a week when I typically only work 40, so I by the time I get home I'm exhausted and can't do much more than sleep. I feel awful about not being able to update as often because of this.
> 
> I hope everyone is staying healthy and getting a lot of rest, and please remember, don't go out unless absolutely necessary so we can beat this sooner.

_February 9th, 2119  
Palace of the Sun_

“One more, but you have to promise me, the next chance we get we’ll sneak out to stargaze,” he bargained, the prince nodded once more before capturing the smaller boy’s lips one final time.

It was sloppy and lacked any real finesse— only the prince’s second ever kiss and he knew Taeyong lacked any experience either. It was all sharp teeth and wet tongue as Youngho wrapped his arm around Taeyong’s lower back clutching the expensive satin the younger was clothed in.

Their noses bumped awkwardly as they both tried to figure out the best position for either of them to kiss and the prince settled for caging Taeyong against the corner of the balcony, tilting the younger’s head back as he tried to kiss him from above— one hand still on the small of his back and the other trapping his body between the wall and the marble guard railing of the balcony.

The sun’s rays began to grow in intensity and Youngho found the smaller boy clinging to him tighter and twisting his body to avert his eyes from the onslaught of light. The young prince found him sliding his hand from the stone railing up the smaller boy’s silky sleeves and up his jawline to his cheekbones to cup the side of his face and protect his sensitive eyes from the light.

He pulled back a moment later, panting and smiling lazily at the smaller boy who’s cheeks were tinged red in embarrassment and eye’s refused to meet his.

The prince couldn’t help it when he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the smaller boy’s forehead, then down the bridge of his nose and down to the tip and finally a quick peck to his lips. The smaller boy squealed indignantly and tilted his gaze upward to glare at the prince but only ended in squinting and turning his gaze down once more as the sunlight grew too bright for him and the prince’s golden crown sparkled in the light.

“You said only one more,” his lips jutted out into a pout and the prince placed another peck to his lips which only resulted in Taeyong growling playfully under his breath and giving the other a gentle shove.

“Stop being so damn cute then, Tae,” Youngho teased as he took a step back to allow the smaller boy out of the corner he’d been backed into.

Taeyong just frowned at him and poked his tongue out peevishly before breezing past him through the gauzy white curtains separating the outside from the throne room.

With Youngho a few steps behind him, Taeyong took in a shaky breath as he stared into the dark room— to the right of him was the grand throne in all its gold and marble glory with topiaries on either side and paintings of the early dawn sky with a stylized moon.

The back of the throne itself was carved out of the highest quality marble and resembled the shape of a great bear that instilled awe from the fae that lived there in the Court of the Sun but to him it drove fear into his very heart. It reminded him of that fateful day so many years ago when he’d first been brought there as an offering from his own people, and always served as a bitter reminder to him of the betrayal he’d faced at the hands of his mother.

Even more it awoke memories far more recent of being dragged before it in iron shackles— soaking wet with murky lake water and his own blood, as he was forced to kneel before the king and take the full force of his wrath as well as the queen’s for going against the binding commands instilled on him years ago.

He remembered so vividly being forced to grovel for forgiveness for being commanded against his will to leave the city— though he harbored no resentment for Youngho for commanding him. He knew deep down had the prince not commanded him to leave then Youngho very well might have died that day.

A hand came and rested on his shoulder, holding him firmly and offering him support.

In Youngho’s mind every time he stepped into this room all he could hear were the cries of anguish as he watched his mother tear through Taeyong’s wing with her claws— freshly molten and never even used for flight, his back had still been healing from the initial wounds from molting.

He would forever feel guilt anytime he entered this room or his gaze landed on Taeyong’s crooked wing. The hand on Taeyong’s shoulder was as much for support for the younger boy as it was for himself. His grip was tight and he could feel his claws biting into Taeyong’s shoulder but neither seemed to mind.

“I’m—” Youngho’s voice was thick with sadness and threatened to break.

“Don’t say it,” Taeyong cut him off with quiet words and a wavering tone. He turned around to fully face the prince and took one of his hands in his own.

“I would gladly go through it again and again if it meant you were safe,” the younger boy added, his eyes firm as he willed his voice to stop shaking and they both knew it to be true.

Just as Taeyong was willing to suffer through insurmountable pain if it meant protecting the other boy, he knew Youngho would do the same for him without batting an eye. It was the reason Youngho had insisted on his display of microaggressions he knew would get under his own mother’s skin— why he would throw his arms over Taeyong and hold him close even in the most formal of court settings, why he always made sure to make eye contact with her before hugging the smaller boy and lingering too long.

Youngho knew that him befriending Taeyong made his mother seethe with anger but there wasn’t anything she could do about.

It wasn’t to say that Youngho only cared about the younger boy to get back at his mother. Even from the first time he laid eyes on him, Youngho had thought he was beautiful and intriguing. Interaction with the Court of the Moon was so limited as it were and he had always had so many questions of their court and how they lived and when Taeyong was brought to his court as a tithe he saw it as an opportunity to learn.

It definitely didn’t hurt that under his icy exterior Taeyong had such a soft heart— for Youngho only. He was always so clear about how he hated living there, hated everyone who side eyed him and scorned him for even existing. When it came to the prince however, Taeyong was different— reserved for him his laughter and the smiles that lit up his whole face and made his eyes glitter, he let his angry façade slip and allowed himself to feel all the emotions he otherwise repressed.

He couldn’t stop himself— always driven by impulse, Youngho pulled the smaller boy flush against his chest and held him tight. Buried his face in the crown of Taeyong’s ashy white hair and cradled his body so tenderly but protectively against his own.

The prince couldn’t help the tears that formed in the corner of his eyes— wet and salty they burned and irritated his eyes but he couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t help the shuddering sob that tore through his body as all his mind could focus on was the memories of Taeyong lying on the floor of this very room while the court laughed in the face of his pain, could only focus on the way he screamed in agony with each new tear to his delicate wing.

Taeyong felt the teardrops fall from the others eyes and dampen his hair, could feel the way the other boy’s body shook as he clung to him.

No matter how many times he told him it wasn’t his fault and he didn’t blame him, the prince’s heart was so delicate and fragile— no amount of words would convince him of anything else or change his heart and it pained the younger to see him like this. It wasn’t the first time Youngho expressed guilt to him but it was the first time the other had shed tears in front of him and Taeyong was at a loss.

Arms wrapped around Youngho’s torso and squeezed him tightly, his face burrowed into the other’s neck and felt the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he continued to cry. Tiny fists gathered handfuls of the back of the prince’s shirt, holding him close as if the harder he held him the more he could convey his feelings and assuage the other’s pain.

“Youngho, please,” he started, finally tilting his head back to meet the other’s tearstained brown eyes, with the sunlight filtering in through the curtains they glowed like jewels and sparkled even when they held so much sadness.

“Don’t cry over it,” gingerly he reached up to wipe away the taller boy’s tears.

“I can’t help it, I hear your screams every night I go to sleep, Tae,” they were like a haunting lullaby that instilled fear into him and made his rest anything but restful. Every night he’d toss and turn trying to silence his mind and focus instead of something happier— the beautiful windchime laugh of the younger boy, the way his voice changed when they were alone and he was pouting about the imps telling him he ate too many sweets so he stole more when they weren’t looking.

“You should listen to something else,” Youngho expected that answer and couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips slow but infectious. Taeyong smiled back at him before standing on his toes and pressing a ginger kiss to the other’s cheek before maneuvering out of his hold and taking his hand to lead him out of the throne room.

Youngho cast one last glance over his shoulder and glared at the throne as he wiped his tears.

“I never want to step foot in here again,” his voice was low and grim causing Taeyong to stop once more and turn to face him with worried eyes.

“When you’re king this room won’t be as cold,” Youngho thought the words over— cold was the perfect way to describe it.

Cold stone and imposing gold, the stoic faces of the king and queen and the ever reverent court— there was nothing warm about the room, nothing welcoming. But when his eyes landed on the balcony he thought, _“Maybe we can make better memories here._ ”

As they descended the stairs back towards the ballroom Youngho could see the way Taeyong stood up taller, squared his shoulders and he could imagine his gaze hardening the closer they got to court. The prince squeezed his hand tightly and moved to stand beside him rather than behind, as if being next to him could protect him from the hateful gazes— after all no one would spit at their prince even if their enemy was beside him.

He liked to think that his little acts of rebellion would show solidarity with Taeyong and would slowly alter the opinion of the court for the younger boy, but deep down he knew these creatures were centuries old and set in their ways. They were children of fourteen and thirteen, hardly a blink in the eyes of many of the denizens and he knew it meant nothing to them— but he knew it meant the world to Taeyong and that’s why he continued to do it even knowing nothing would ever actually change until he was on the throne.

Youngho cast another glance down the staircase as music wafted up to his ears. He wasn’t in the mood to party anymore and knew Taeyong wasn’t in the mood to go back into the ballroom and face the court or the harsh scrutiny of the queen either. He wished they could disappear into his room and curl up— him with a book and Taeyong beside him either in his bed or on the floor painting scenes of starry nights and glittering snowflakes dusting over the tree tops.

“I don’t want to go back,” Youngho whispered, eyeing one of the paladins standing guard nearby, his gaze trained on the smaller boy beside him. Taeyong visibly deflated as he stared down the stairwell.

“I don’t either, but your mother will not be happy if you aren’t present,” the way he stated it made both of them almost break out into laughter— as if either of them cared about what the queen wanted from them. Though both knew that they— meaning Taeyong— would face the ire of the king if she became too displeased by their actions.

It was unspoken between them, they didn’t need words to understand each other when it came to the prince’s parents. Taeyong was always walking a thin line and even if the king “favored” him they both knew it was only to spite the queen who despised him— knew the king didn’t truly care one way or another about him and only pretended to care for him to anger his wife.

“Then let us make her unhappy with my attendance?” Youngho lowered his voice to a mischievous octave as he nudged the smaller boy. Taeyong smirked back with a glint in his own eye.

“Shall I escort you then, Your Highness?” he bowed formally before rising, reaching for the older boy’s elbow to link their arms like he’d done countless times before. Back home, at the Court of the Moon, his main role as prince was to become the subservient accessory to the eldest daughters of the noblest families. It was a habit formed from being raised as the only male heir in a matriarchal court. Though a voice in the back of his mind echoed the roles were different here in the Court of the Sun.

He didn’t particularly care for those roles of etiquette and knew the prince didn’t either. What mattered most to either of them was simply being at each other’s sides.

Youngho chuckled at the other and allowed Taeyong to lead him down the marble staircase towards the glowing ballroom and echoing music. He felt warmth spread through his chest in fondness as he watched the other boy, his face while still hardened and guarded still held an underlying happiness at their proximity.

He thought like this, Taeyong was beautiful— warm light washing over his skin bringing life to his dark eyes as the barest of smiles played at his lips and glittered in his eyes.

The prince found himself placing his hand over Taeyong’s and holding it tightly, found himself wanting to lean in again and kiss the top of his head and capture his lips but refrained for now. Instead he settled on brushing his thumb lovingly over the back of Taeyong’s hand.

He didn’t know what love was or what it felt like for sure, but he knew the way he felt for Taeyong must have been close. And as their eyes locked nervously before entering the ballroom he knew the other boy felt the same.

“I’m your Youngho,” he whispered as if lending his courage to the other boy— he could feel his nerves and hesitation as they drew near but could also feel it fade as the tension left his shoulders with his words.

“And I’m your Taeyong,” he whispered back with the faintest smile before he took the lead and escorted the prince into the grand room.

It was far too bright for his liking, the candlelight cast a rainbow of glares across the floor as it flickered and reflected off the crystal chandeliers and décor. Everything was always far too bright for him here, there was too much light and too many gold gilded ornaments that shimmered too brightly for his liking.

No one seemed to take notice of them right away, but Taeyong felt one pair of eyes boring into him as if they could scorch holes into his back and incinerate him on the spot. He didn’t need to turn around to know that the queen had noticed them.

Youngho seemed to pick up on the cue as well and only pressed himself closer to Taeyong who lead him towards the center of the dance floor.

Both emboldened by the angry glare they had received and the hushed whispers slowly starting to build up around them, Youngho took a step back from the prince before bowing graciously. Taeyong extended his hand out to him, palm-side down and fingers arched and bent towards the floor. Youngho took his smaller hand in his own and rubbed tenderly with the pad of his thumb— eyes locked with the younger boy’s and not straying once until he closed his eyes and pressed the gentlest of kisses to the back of his hand.

“May I have this dance?” he asked as a chorus of scandalized gasps echoed around them. He could feel the tension in the room mount, could see all of the daggers being directed towards Taeyong and from his peripheral he could see an angry red painting his mother’s cheeks. It contrasted greatly to the soft hue dusting across Taeyong’s high cheekbones.

The younger nodded slowly, smile cracking his cold façade for a moment as he used their linked hands as leverage to pull Youngho closer to him. Almost immediately, the prince’s hands were locking around his waist cinching his cloak around him. Taeyong found his arms interlocked over the older’s shoulders.

They embraced, allowing themselves to sway to the music— lost in their own world as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Words were an unnecessary formality as they exchanged mischievous grins as Youngho’s right hand traveled up his hip and traced the frame of the younger’s torso as Taeyong’s own left hand trailed gently down the prince’s shoulder and forearm before finally clasping their hands together.

Youngho led their dance, a simple and traditional one he’d been trained in since he was younger— the steps foreign to Taeyong even as he followed closely not missing a beat. Even as the music picked up, grew faster, grew louder, the pair stayed in perfect sync with one another as they allowed their feet to guide them across the ballroom.

All thought’s of the queen and the other members of court vacated their mind as they twirled across the room, their laughter the only sound that entered into their world over the pounding drums and airy flutes and violins.

Hours passed by in what felt like moments. The two so caught up in their own little bubble only taking a break from dancing to eat or drink when the occasional hob skittered by, carrying with them gilded platters balancing crystal flutes of exotic nectars that made their heads buzz and blood sing through their veins.

Even if he found the nectars to be too bitter or the fruits too dry, Taeyong didn’t mind once he imbibed enough— feeling floaty and content wrapped up in Youngho’s arms as their feet carried them across the dance floor.

With his head pressed into the crook of the prince’s neck he inhaled deeply and exhaled a contented sigh.

“Chamomile and pine _quills_ ,” he mumbled loftily. His head was swimming and floating at the same time, felt like his body at any moment would melt into the floor.

Youngho’s hand carded through his messy hair, claws scraping soothingly against his scalp as he felt the other boy lull and sway.

‘You mean pine _needles_?” the prince asked gently and found himself swaying along with Taeyong.

The younger boy tilted his head back and blinked, confusion miring his sleepy face. His mouth echoed the word and continued to whisper it as he furrowed his brow.

“Words are words,” he mumbled finally as he pursed his lips into a pout and his brows furrowed deeper.

“Why get hung up when they don’t own you?” Youngho laughed at the irony as sadness filled his eyes watching the younger boy. Thoughts of binding commands and how easily it was to control other people with simple words as long as you knew the right ones filled his mind.

A smaller hand cupped his face and the pad of a thumb brushed over his lips. Youngho felt a chill run down his spine and couldn’t be sure if it was the alcohol or if it was cold in the room— maybe it had to do with realizing belatedly the proximity of the younger boy.

The skin near the corner of his mouth was pulled taut and forced upward in a semblance of a smile.

“No frowning, I can hear you thinking,” Taeyong admonished, eyes drooping as he leaned forward to rest his head against the prince’s collar bones. His eyes fell shut and he looked at peace. Youngho wished he could stay in the moment like this— his mind comfortably fogged and his body tingling with warmth and Taeyong resting against him at peace.

“I meant you smelled nice,” Taeyong mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric of Youngho’s clothes and the sleepiness that clung to him.

“I know, Tae,” he answered, cradling the back of the other boy’s skull feeling him relax entirely.

It was already becoming so late, Youngho began to wonder what time it even was— in the ballroom it was impossible to tell. The room itself was carved out of a massive tree without windows. He’d have to leave once more and take the flight of stairs up into the main atrium of the palace to find out. Taeyong seemed incapable of moving on his own, the nectar taking its toll on him even stronger than the prince himself.

He couldn’t help the fond smile as Taeyong groaned when Youngho nudged him.

“Lets get you to bed,” the prince mumbled against the crown of the younger’s head. His eyes scanned the ballroom, the courtiers and nobles were still dancing as if they felt no exhaustion and vaguely he recalled tales as a child of humans who were lured into the grand ballrooms of the fae. He recalled how humans became drunk on the sights and sounds and would fall into a trance and dance until they collapsed dead from exhaustion.

It made him wonder, were the hyumes really that weak? Or was their magic potent enough to fog their brains so much they lost all sense of agency?

Looking down he watched as Taeyong’s feet continued moving slowly to the music as if he didn’t want to quit, noticed how he was sleepier than most from the nectar and wondered if it had something to do with him being from the Court of The Moon, and the Moon’s blessings being different to Taeyong than the Sun’s were to him.

He recalled how Taeyong avoided eating most of the foods served and wondered if maybe it was something to do with that— the nectar being more potent on an empty stomach.

“You hungry?” Youngho finally asked, realizing for every fifth morsel of food he’d eaten Taeyong had only had one. In his arms, the younger shook his head.

“Yeah but tastes like ash,” his words were muffled by sleep and Youngho sighed. He couldn’t fault him for not eating if he hated the food, but he felt frustration set in deep behind his brows. Taeyong peered up at him through shining obsidian orbs, unfocused and bleary, and Youngho felt it dissipate.

Across the hall he noticed his mother was dining with the other nobles while his father sat at the throne and regaled with stories of splendor and triumph during the War of the Sun— tales of how their armies pushed back those monsters born of moondust and drove them into hiding in the volcanic caves of the Burning Mountain. Recounted the stories of the curse the Sun had bestowed on them draining them of the Sun’s glory and reducing them to ash and coal, the cold aftermath of the burning summer heat.

He could tell the words were drifting to Taeyong’s ears when the younger turned his head away from table and buried his face deeper into Youngho’s chest. His father’s eyes skimmed the crowd and landed on the pair, could feel the daggers being bored into Taeyong, and swiftly turned his body to shield the younger from his gaze as if he could hear the thoughts his father’s mind echoed, could feel his desire to bring Taeyong to the table and flaunt him as an example of the curse.

His mind made up, Youngho pulled Taeyong through the crowd despite the younger’s sleepy protests. He refused to let his father reduce Taeyong to nothing but some sick trophy or example of the Sun Court’s supposed superiority.

It had happened too many times before and Youngho refused to let it happen on his naming celebration of all days. Instead he’d hide Taeyong away in his room and sleep until dawn with him and nurse their morning headaches together when the nectar took its toll on them.

“Too fast,” a tiny voice behind him whined and he looked back to see Taeyong had pulled his hood over his head to shield himself from the light once more as exhaustion seeped into his bones.

The prince slowed his pace only slightly, but it was enough for Taeyong to stop whining behind him and catch up to him.

As they drew closer to the marble archways leaving the ballroom, he thought back to the tails his father had been sharing, the ones he had grown up being spoon fed, and his mind began to wander. Taeyong had been forbidden from sharing the history he had been taught as a childling, but from what Youngho knew it was vastly different.

Taeyong always alluded to fragments of his stories with cryptic phrasing always saying in the end that “ _The truth never matters once a victor is decided_.” And Youngho never fully understood what he meant by that when they were younger, but his brain was just the right amount of hazed that he might have been able to make sense of it now.

“Want to see the moon once?” it was a statement phrased as a question, and of course Youngho had to oblige— _anything for Taeyong_ , he thought fondly as he squeezed the smaller boy’s hand tightly in his.

Rather than going back to the balcony they had escaped to earlier, Youngho wasn’t sure his legs would carry him up the many flights of stairs, he turned right down a narrow hallway that gradually began to open wider as the walls gave way to magnificent arches peppered with shrubs.

Pushing through a golden gate, Youngho lead Taeyong out into the gardens.

Just in the distance he could make out the sound of the fountain— obscured by a maze of towering hedges dotted with fragrant blooms of golden and white roses. Overhead was a canopy of tree branches weaving together to block out the sky.

It was late, but without being able to see the moon’s position, the prince had no idea just how late it was. Beside him, Taeyong whined as he looked to the sky, no doubt dismayed by the blocked view of the moon. He took a deep breath before letting go of the prince’s hand.

“I suppose we’ll have to make it through the maze first if I want to see the moon?” he sounded only mildly defeated as mischief laced into his voice. His tone perked up and he didn’t sound nearly as tired as he had been moments ago while Youngho had practically dragged him through the throngs of people.

Something about the moon always energized the other and he never had a clear answer as to why— his lessons never spoke much about their rival court and Taeyong himself either didn’t know or had been forbidden from speaking about it so Youngho was kept in the dark.

Youngho looked up once more and studied the dome-like ceiling of tree branches in the dark and nodded. He’d forgotten about the canopy but at least, he thought, being out in the cold and wandering the maze would help clear the haze in their minds before falling to sleep.

Taeyong took his hand in his and pulled him towards the entrance of the maze. It was dark, dimly lit only by the glowing bodies of beetles that flickered through the shrubs.

Before him, he could hardly see— dark shapes and figures dotted the landscape and his friend almost disappeared against the hedges with his dark clothing. If it hadn’t been for the messy white hair on Taeyong’s head he might not have seen him at all.

He squinted his eyes trying to adapt to the dim light— transitioning far too slowly from the bright lights of the ballroom for his liking as Taeyong continued to drag him through the maze.

The garden was unusually silent, save for the sounds of the fountain and Taeyong’s giggles as he wandered through the labyrinth and was met with a dead end. Every time before he had ventured into the maze it had been midday at the very least and women and children of the court were out basking in the beauty of it, idling their days away in paradise.

There was always some kind of commotion going on so the silence was jarring to him.

“Youngho?” his voice squeaked out over the deafening silence, small but holding that curious lilt to it as his steps slowed and he turned his head to look at the other.

His ashy hair glowed a dull gold as a pyrefly made itself at home between his locks, and cast a glimmer into the boy’s eyes. Youngho couldn’t help but laugh as a few more began to congregate atop his head like a twinkling crown.

His heart hammered with a warming fondness as a slow smile pulled on the edges of his lips. Taeyong really was adorable— his eyes reminded him of a doe, dark depths wide and gentle. Every time he tried to imagine growing up without Taeyong at his side he always felt a pang of pain wash over him.

If Taeyong had never been brought to his court they never would have met— might even have crossed daggers on a battle field one day, and he’d never have these beautiful moments and memories of the other. He never would have had a bright spot to look back on— like a guiding star in the black ocean above familiar and home.

He often wondered what Taeyong’s life would have been like too— the volcanic caves of Burning Mountain and the soot filled air when it would erupt so far below ground he’d be safe. Would he ever see the sun? How often would he be allowed above ground to gaze at the stars he loved so much? Would he have more friends being the son of the queen or would he be just as quiet and withdrawn?

“Yeah?” he finally answered, realizing he’d been silent for far too long. Everything seemed to be slow motion— it had to have been the nectar finally hitting his bloodstream the way it was meant to, and catching up to him.

“It’s the heart of Frostfall, why are the trees not barren and why is the air warm?” Youngho stared at him and blinked a few times as he glanced around the maze. The perpetual warmth hadn’t ever phased him, never even crossed his mind as an oddity.

Taeyong had lived in the palace for nearly seven cycles now, the prince had assumed he was already aware of the spells over the gardens. As he gazed down at the younger’s twinkling eyes and crown of pyreflies he felt his heart twist.

Of course Taeyong wouldn’t know that— he was rarely allowed out of palace as it was. The queen feared even his presence would make the flowers wilt, or so she claimed, and banned him from visiting the gardens. The young always managed to sneak into them anyways however, but it was usually under cover of night and during the Mid Sunfire Festival where the queen was too busy tending to the nobles to notice Taeyong wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

“The garden is enchanted to be perpetually the season of Sunfire, so that Frostfall never touches the Elder Tree at the heart,” he explained and motioned to a great golden tree reached far above the hedges of the maze.

Taeyong frowned and mumbled something under his breath about Frostfall being the _best_ season. Youngho remained silent, deciding it was better than outright disagreeing with the other. Frostfall might have been the best season to Taeyong because of his court’s beliefs but it wasn’t the same for the Court of the Sun.

“I could live my life in entirety without experiencing Frostfall and be content, all it brings is death,” he explained rather coldly, the words slipping out.

Taeyong’s eyes welled with sadness and he regretted the words as soon as they escaped from him, but he said nothing, only turned away from the other and kicked at the ground in frustration. His movements started the pyreflies in his hair and the scattered from their roost and flickered through the open space before them.

“You were born under Frostfall, if it didn’t exist I wouldn’t have you,” the other mumbled grumpily as his booted foot kicked at a rock, sending it flying.

Youngho grabbed the smaller boy by his shoulders, whirling him around as a clumsy apology formed on his tongue. It died when he saw the other’s eyes glistening with unshed water.

“It’s not just death you know,” he kept his eyes on the ground but pulled one of Youngho’s hands into his. A clawed finger traced the lines across his palm gingerly as if reading them.

“It’s rebirth and the continuation of life, without it the flowers wouldn’t bloom, the rivers would dry up, the plants would never heal from the scorching sun,” the prince took his other hand and tilted Taeyong’s chin up so their eyes would meet.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Taeyong, growing up I was taught that Frostfall is a punishment forced upon us by the gods for the uprising,” somehow he doubted those were the right words to cheer the other one up— he didn’t mean them as a subtle jab to remind him of why his Court was so hated.

Taeyong’s frown deepened for a moment before swallowing the lump gathering in his throat.

“It isn’t your fault, we were raised with different versions of the truth,” he answered quietly before closing the older boy’s hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Is this what you meant earlier, Tae? When you said the truth never matters and words are just words?”

A soft laughter bubbled up in he younger’s chest, filling the air with his quiet melodious laugh as he nodded.

The words tumbled around in Youngho’s brain a few more times and contemplated their meaning just a while longer before deciding that he liked the way the younger boy saw the world. Even if it was different, even if some of it went against what he knew to be fact, if it was important to Taeyong it was important to him.

“I still want to see the moon before we sleep,” Taeyong spoke after a comfortable pause. Youngho looked up towards the canopy as if the trees would somehow part and allow him a glimpse of the sky above.

“And if we never make it to the center of this maze, then what?” Youngho asked him, though he didn’t believe his words, only wanted to see the other’s reaction.

Taeyong simply shrugged before pulling him further into the maze, left then right then left again— it was evident the younger had no idea where he was going and was simply leading on impulse. Youngho followed close behind, not really minding if they were lost for the moment.

The warm air felt nice against his flushed cheeks and the occasional cool breeze soothed him as he kept his pace to follow closely behind Taeyong.

Just hours ago he had watched snow dance from the sky, falling down and clinging to their eyelashes that in turn kissed their cheeks. It had been a scene almost as if out of a dream, fragile like crystal and equally as beautiful and precious.

 _I would spend forever with him like this if I could_ , the prince thought fondly as he watched Taeyong dart around a corner and heard him explode in laughter and joy.

They must have made it to the center of the maze.

Maybe he was too young or too foolish to understand the weight of his thoughts, but with Taeyong by his side everything was clear like spring water and comforting like the warm embers of the great hearth they would fall asleep beside.

As he rounded the corner himself, he noticed Taeyong and already perched himself on the edge of the fountain— leaned back and peering up at the endless sky. A see of stars and the glimmering moon shone down on him. Her fullness cast a brighter glow than usual and as Youngho blinked his eyes, his mind filled with images of earlier that evening. Images of Taeyong standing tall under the eclipse, eyes glowing a crimson red and his shadow reflecting long antlers— those of a great stag, the Crest of the other boy’s court.

The pyreflies began to gather again, casting their warm glow over the clearing. The flittered from rose bush to rose bush then back towards the pair of boys.

Youngho took a seat beside Taeyong, felt the cool mist of the fountain spray gently across his face and cooling the heat away from his cheeks. He wondered if he were sober enough to keep from falling in.

Only time would tell, he supposed.

Taeyong sat motionless as he gazed up at the moon, silver tones reflecting in his dark eyes.

“It’s weird,” the smaller started. His brows furrowed as he chased the thought around in his head, reaching for words to form.

Youngho turned his head and gave the other his attention, even when the other boy didn’t do the same. He was so lost in his own thoughts, trying to formulate them coherently, but Youngho didn’t mind. He only placed his larger hand on Taeyong’s smaller one and waited patiently.

“Earlier with the eclipse, my blood was singing— does that make sense?” his frown deepened but Youngho returned his frown with a smile.

“I think so,” Youngho replied as he mulled the words over.

“You mean like you felt alive in a way that you don’t usually?” he prodded, hoping he understood correctly.

Taeyong took his gaze from the moon and met Youngho’s auburn eyes, a smile playing on his own lips as he nodded.

“Yes, exactly,” Youngho wondered if the stag horns appearing in his shadow had anything to do with it.

“It always hums when I meet with the moon, feels good makes me happy,” Youngho nodded in understanding. The Sun at it’s zenith had the same effect on him— blood thrummed in his veins and warmed him with fire from the inside out in a way he couldn’t explain. There were certain times— like the Solstice of the Sun where the Sun lent him its power and made him feel like a live wire about to snap.

“But with the Eclipse it felt so different, so much stronger like I was invincible,” Taeyong spoke as his eyes glittered and Youngho just listened, didn’t know what he could say to add to it nor did he want to impede the other’s thoughts by weighing him down with his own.

“Their song was so much louder than usual, clear and gods Youngho I wish you could hear the stars, they way they sing of you,” his voice was full of emotions, hope and wonder, adoration and love, each emotion reflecting in his eyes as he took Youngho’s hand into both of his.

He felt a blush creep onto his cheeks, curiosity lapping at his mind as he wondered what the stars could possibly be saying about him.

“And the Sun, I heard him today for the first time,” his tone was wistful and his hands tightened around Youngho’s own.

It was strange to hear and see the wonder in his eyes as he spoke about the Sun— he was so accustomed to Taeyong either skirting the topic of the deity entirely or speaking from a place of resentment as he reflected on the Court itself.

“The way his voice harmonizes with the Moon, I wonder if our kings and queens realize they want our harmony too,” a somber note came over his voice that left Youngho wondering.

The Moon and Sun were at war with each other— the Sky having banished them to opposing realms to bring the Night and Day respectively because they could never see eye to eye. The Moon was forever chasing the sun in favor of the Sky and every night birthing new stars as her power waned and Darkness ate her until she was reborn.

That had been part of her curse for trying to undermine the Sun and starting a war— he couldn’t begin to understand how Taeyong seemed to think they wanted peace. None of it made sense to him though when he went to question the other his words died instantly on his tongue.

Taeyong’s eyes were clouded and his frown was too deep to be simply contemplative. Youngho squeezed his hand back as if doing so would lend the other his strength.

“That sounds lovely,” he found himself whispering back to the other instead of reminding him of the Sun and Moon’s hatred for each other.

The smaller boy smiled gently before letting go of the prince’s hand in favor of using his own to tilt the other’s head back.

Youngho was staring straight into the moon, he could heel her energy washing over him and boring into his soul. He felt small under her scrutiny, even if she wasn’t his goddess she still held immense power over their land and was far more powerful than he could ever hope to be.

It didn’t feel as cruel and cold as he had anticipated it to be— he never liked to look at her for long because he always assumed she held hatred for him and his people just as she hated the Sun.

Instead, it felt gentle and loving— almost as if he were staring into Taeyong’s eyes, and that thought brought a smile to his lips. He felt the other’s fingers lingering against the base of his skull and from his peripheral vision he could see the other staring back at her.

“What is she saying about me?” Youngho finally asked, tering his eyes away from her to focus on the boy beside him.

Taeyong stayed quiet, almost too long. As the seconds ticked by Youngho could feel his heart beating faster and faster in trepidation, found himself wondering if it had been the wrong question to ask or perhaps the wrong moment to ask that particular question. His eyes searched Taeyong for any hints of an answer and just as he was about to apologize the other spoke.

“She says you’re different from them, she says that under different circumstances she would look forward to your rule,” he felt his brow furrow as he watched Taeyong’s do the same— neither understanding what she meant fully.

“What does—?”

“She won’t elaborate, but she says uhm,” his voice trailed off and he looked down towards the ground, seemingly fascinated with the blades of grass dancing in the wind and the pyreflies flitting about— anything that wasn’t Youngho.

Curiosity gnawed at the older boy, he wanted to know what the moon was saying about him, wanted to know her thoughts on him while still feeling amazed that a goddess he didn’t follow still had her eyes on him. He looked to the moon once more, cautiously. Her gentle rays beamed down on him, smooth like running water and bathed him in serenity.

“She says that I’m lucky to have you here and she has eternal gratitude towards you for protecting one of her children,” Taeyong kicked at a tuft of grass a soft hue of red coloring his cheeks as his eyebrows creased with unspoken words.

Youngho laughed quietly and placed his hand on Taeyong’s knee, halting his leg from kicking further and thumbed over the soft fabric.

“Tell her it has been my honor to be by your side, Tae, I wouldn’t trade a single moment spent by your side,” Taeyong wrinkled his nose and gently swatted at the other boy’s hand away with a giggle.

“You’re too much of a romantic, aren’t princes meant to be cold and unfeeling?” Taeyong reached forward and traced a gold leaf vine woven into the prince’s circlet. His finger followed its twisting form around the piece before coming to rest where it disappeared under the boy’s hair.

“Only towards my enemies,” Youngho’s voice was quiet, just a whisper swallowed by the chirps of the pyreflies dancing around them. He cupped Taeyong’s chin in his hands, the skin smooth like ice and soft as down.

His eyes bore into Taeyong’s as a smile tugged at his lips and mirrored itself on the other boy’s face.

“She says you’re beautiful,” Taeyong mumbled quietly, Youngho’s eyes intensified— mirth glittered in their depths and his fingers traced along the smaller boy’s jawline.

“She says that, or you do?”

The pale red that spread like wildfire over Taeyong’s cheeks felt like a victory.

Even when the younger tried to turn his head away to cast his eyes anywhere but the prince’s imploring face, Youngho held tightly— gentle so as not to bruise but firm enough that the other was trapped.

Taeyong swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, embarrassment flushing his skin a deeper hue that became more apparent even in the dim light.

He spoke words foreign to Youngho’s ears, a tongue he’d never heard spoken before— it was stars colliding and moon beans gleaming in the dark, an endless black ocean with sparkling diamonds as silver clouds drifted overhead.

Though his words didn’t carry, somehow the moon’s light seemed to shine brighter on Taeyong, as if lending him her strength. As Youngho watched him, long lashes kissing his cheekbones and steady breathing, Youngho wanted to lean in and press another kiss to his lips, not caring if he got an answer or not from the other.

Just as Taeyong began to answer, something instead caught his attention on the horizon and he whipped his head around to stare up at the moon. A deep frown settled on his face as he hopped off the side of the fountain and placed his hands on the dirt.

Youngho stared at him confused, a moment later he smelled smoke wafting through the trees.

At his feet, Taeyong was trembling with his hands buried in the earth. His face was twisted in fear and sadness. Youngho was sure he saw tears glistening on his lashes like crystal dew in the early morning.

“Tae?” Youngho asked, his voice hesitant as he knelt beside the other boy.

Taeyong turned to face him and pulled the other boy into a tight hug— hands desperately clinging to the front of Youngho’s shirt as his body trembled against his.

“What’s wrong? What did you hear?”

Youngho had always known Taeyong had a deeper connection to the earth— it was a hereditary magick passed between royal blood in the Court of the Moon. Much like how all those years ago in the underwater caves, Taeyong could find his way by listening to them sing, he was able to bury his hands in the Earth and listen to the movements and disruption on its surface or deep below.

Taeyong just shook his head and hid it deeper into Youngho’s chest.

The heavy scent of smoke thickened in the air and Youngho felt himself begin to panic, Taeyong had seen or heard something and as the smoke drew nearer he felt the icy cold grip of fear settle in his stomach like a steel ball.

“Youngho you have to hide, get out of here,” Taeyong finally spoke. He pulled back and his onyx eyes glistened with fresh tears, his whole body trembled like a leaf and it only made Youngho want to hold him tighter.

“What is it? Why? What about—”

“I don’t care about them. I don’t care what happens but I swear to the gods I can’t allow them to harm you,” his words were rushed and slurring together in his haste— so unlike the cool and collected boy Youngho was familiar with.

“Who would harm me?”

Taeyong shook his head and twisted himself out of the prince’s hold. He unlaced his boots and tossed them aside without a care in the world.

His toes instinctively curled in the cool dirt of the garden as he rose to his feet. He was still shaking but he grabbed the prince by his slender wrist and tugged him to his feet.

“We don’t have time, but we need to go,” he cast one more look up towards the moon and Youngho couldn’t help but stare at him in confusion and worry. Taeyong was never like this— whatever he saw, Youngho didn’t want to think of it. It must have been bad to shake him so firmly.

“Okay, Tae.” He began to wonder if they were safe in the enchanted dome of trees, but Taeyong’s distress told him it was unlikely.

The younger boy pulled off his cloak and unfastened the prince’s before draping his own over the other’s shoulders. Golden silk dripped to the earth in a shimmering pool as Taeyong whispered words against a silver broach shaped like a crescent.

“ _Light of Moon, and dark of noon, hide the truth, disguise these youth_.”

Youngho was certain the other was speaking in the Ancient Tongue and couldn’t discern what the words meant, but as a pale silver light emitted from the jewelry, he slowly understood. With nimble fingers, Taeyong clasped it to the front of his shirt and he could feel a cool sensation wash over him.

He looked back towards the younger boy and blinked in astonishment— rather than pale golden locks he was staring at a rich mahogany and glittering amber gemstone eyes blinked back at him.

He was staring at himself, only beside the left eye was a scar he had seen millions of time’s before— not of his own though, the only tell that it wasn’t truly him standing before him. As he cast his eyes into the reflective water of the fountain’s basin, black obsidian peered back at him through a messy silver fringe. Rather than long knife like ears however, his were shorter, less sharp.

“You act like you’ve never seen glamor before,” Taeyong laughed bitterly, despite himself. His appearance may have changed but his voice remained the same. It would have been jarring to Youngho had he not been so familiar with the magick.

“It’s just odd hearing your voice come from my lips,” Taeyong let a tentative smile cross his face, his pulse still thundered and his blood roared through his veins as adrenaline filled him.

“Enough, we must go,” his voice was harsh and commanding as his smile fell, and Youngho couldn’t blame him though he didn’t understand.

Why the urgency? Why the glamor?

Taeyong grabbed hold of Youngho’s wrist once more and took off running. His bare feet slapped against the dirt path as he led without hesitation, winding their way through the maze. Although, Youngho wasn’t sure where he was going— the exit towards the palace was the other way, but Taeyong seemed so focused he decided not to question it.

What felt like forever and mere moments passed by and Youngho found them faced with a dead end in the maze— the farthest corner to the west far from the palace.

The scent of smoke was distant here, still not tainting the air or burning his lungs.

Taeyong knelt to the ground and took Youngho’s hand into his own rather than holding his wrist.

“Touch the hedges please, my magic won’t be strong enough alone with the two glamors,” his words sounded a little defeated, but Youngho felt no shame for the other— he himself could hardly maintain one glamor for more than a few moments and yet Taeyong was able to maintain two while dividing his magick even further into the earth for guidance.

If anything, Youngho was in awe of his reserve of magick and recalled earlier on the balcony how the eclipse had awakened some sort of primal power in him and wondered if it had anything to do with it.

Youngho did as was asked and placed his palm against one of the shrubs and focused his energy into both of his palms. His hand tingled where Taeyong held onto him, an electric force that drew them nearer like polarized forces.

The sensation was warm and left him craving more of it, never wanted to let go of Taeyong’s hand. He felt like he could get high just from the touch and when the shrubs parted and Taeyong let go, he yearned to touch him just once more.

The smoke began encroaching on them, filling the air with its density and acidic perfume that made the prince choke.

His first thought had been that the forest caught fire some how, but from Taeyong’s reaction he had quickly thought otherwise. If it had been a simple forest fire the palace would have been fortified against it while they too measures to extinguish it. This had to be something else, something far more dangerous to scare Taeyong like it had.

Once the shrubs had parted enough for them to squeeze their bodies through, Taeyong gently nudged the older boy through and followed closely behind.

Casting one glance over his shoulder, Youngho noticed a glow emitting from the forest beyond the domed garden, sharp tongues of flames lapped at the sky in hues of orange and yellow as plumes of smoke drifted his in the night sky, mingling with the low hanging clouds and obscuring the stars from his sight.

In the silence, he swore he could hear the unmistakable pulse of war drums, thundering in the night. Each beat resonated in his ribcage, matched his hammering heartbeat and instilled dread into his very core.

He turned his eyes to Taeyong, trying to mask the fear but Taeyong’s own face mimicked it and he only felt it intensify.

“Where are we going, Tae?” he asked as they ran through the woods, twigs snapped underfoot and wind rustled through their hair, he could hear nothing but. The woods were still, void of wildlife in an unnerving way.

“Ironside,” his words were muffled in the wind and Youngho couldn’t be sure he heard them correctly. Afterall why would he take him to the realm of hyumes where everything was poison?

His lungs ached from running, gasping for air and he wished momentarily that the could just fly. He wondered if in their glamored state would Taeyong have wings once more or were the golden wings tucked neatly against his back just an illusion like the amber eyes?

Growing up, he had always been instructed what to do should the palace every come under attack, but it had been centuries since the last war— merely a sigh to a faerie, but long enough it seemed so distant from Youngho himself who was still young.

His mind wandered to his parents, inside celebrating— dancing and drinking oblivious to the impending chaos. He knew he needed to go back and warn them, assemble their armies, _something_ so they wouldn’t fall victim to a surprise attack.

Taeyong’s words echoed in his mind and Youngho breathed a painful sigh. They might mean nothing to Taeyong but inside that palace was his kingdom, the people he was meant to rule.

“I can’t just leave, Tae, I can’t abandon the kingdom I’m meant to inherit one day,” Youngho halted, stopping dead and halting Taeyong’s own movements.

“I know those are your people, but if you go back you will die, they want blood,”

“How do you know what they want? Are you with them? Those are _your_ people are they not?”

He regretted those words as soon as they left his tongue. The pain in Taeyong’s glamored eyes was enough to tell him he had messed up.

“ _You_ are my person, the only one I care about, you will run disguised as me, Youngho, and I will—” his voice cracked as the weight of his plan settled in on him.

“You will what? Go back as me and lay down your life so I will live?” Taeyong swallowed thickly. It was weird being the taller one, looking down and seeing that colorless hair and those hideous black eyes staring back at him. Peering down at himself he wondered what Youngho saw that made his heart beat fast, made him want to be near him.

When Taeyong didn’t answer, Youngho took both of his hands in his— hesitantly as if it might disturb the glamor cast over them. Staring into his own eyes seemed so foreign to him, it was so different from looking into a mirror where he knew the face staring back was his. Everything was the same except for the tiny scar beside his eye and yet he felt like he was looking at a stranger.

Instead he chose not to look into his eyes, it was too unnerving, rather he focused on the little rose shaped scar that echoed familiarity to him.

“Taeyong Lee, I forbid you from dying in my place,” as he spoke he noticed Taeyong’s eyes harden.

The sounds of war drums grew closer despite how far they were from the palace and dread settled into his bones.

“Youngho Seo, trust me,” his voice was hard but held a pleading note and Youngho couldn’t stop himself from pulling Taeyong into a tight embrace. His arms locked in place around the younger’s waist and his face buried in his chest.

 _This feels nice_ , he thought to himself, relishing in the way it felt to be small and tucked safely against a broad chest with strong arms encircled around him protectively. He understood now why Taeyong was so clingy in private if that was how it always felt hugging him.

“Please, please trust me,” Taeyong’s voice was desperate as he held the other tighter in his arms.

“I do,” and no sooner than the words left his mouth, the warm body in his arms disintegrated into air— a cold breeze that ruffled his hair and rustled the tree’s leaves all around him.

Youngho was alone, but he meant what he said when he told Taeyong he trusted him.

He stared where Taeyong once stood, confused and anxious, where was he to go? He thought the other had said _Ironside_ earlier, but to tread into the realm of hyumes when tensions were still so high from the last great war was madness.

Youngho remembered war briefings with his father, sitting at the large mahogany table— chairs so high his feet dangled over the root covered floor of the hollowed Faerie Elm. Rumors floated to his consciousness, words of the hyumes striking some sort of alliance with the Court of the Moon— magick iron to boon the hyume cities for iron to eradicate the Court of the Moon’s enemies.

If they had been true, the last place Youngho would be safe would be in their realm, but he trusted Taeyong with his life.

He closed his eyes to steel himself, to gather his courage and push down his fears.

It didn’t last long— the drums were ebbing ever closer and the flicker of the flames could be seen through the trees now. The impressive dome still on the horizon engulfed in fire and the haunting howls of Cù-sìth echoed in the air around him.

Youngho felt the adrenaline kick in once more and turned on his heel, bolting to the west as fast as he could, towards the nearest portal into the realm of the hyumes. Once he gets there however, he’s unsure what he’s supposed to do— Taeyong didn’t explain that far, but Youngho bit his lip and hoped for the best.

On his heels he could hear the Cù-sìth getting closer and his heart hammered, remembered how Taeyong told him of these vicious war dogs with coats as white as snow, how he said no one who’d been on the receiving end of their attacks ever survived.

He didn’t know why they were after him when their target was the palace but he kept running, praying to the Sun that he he’d make it to the portal before they could catch him.

It seemed like a vain hope, every second that ticked by they drew closer, followed by suffocating smoke and intense heat from the flames. If this truly was the Court of the Moon, he hoped they would see him as Taeyong, one of their own and be lenient on him— if they even remembered the face of their prince.

His thoughts were cut short as an immense weight thrashed against his back and pushed him face forward into the ground, sending him rolling down a hill. Putrid hot breath blew down the back of his neck and burning saliva drooled from the monstrous snout of the beast that had toppled him over.

He struggled to flip himself over, to wrestle the hound off him, one hand sliding under his cloak and fingers wrapping around the hilt of the ceremonial dagger he wore.

Hot breath was ghosting his face and smelled of rotting flesh and death as a flurry of white fur thrashed above him, jaws snapping and threatening to close in over his throat.

“I think we found something,” in the distance he heard a woman’s voice, her accent was thick and Youngho knew she belonged to the Court of the Moon. He prayed to any of the gods listening that Taeyong’s glamor was strong enough to deceive them.

As the woman approached him, the hound sat still at her command— no longer trying to rip his throat out but refusing to let him move.

“Looks like a Moonling, doesn’t smell like one though,” she hummed to herself, crouching down to look at Youngho closely. Her white hair was pulled back in an intricate maze of braids, her long pointed ears were studded with dangling silver jewelry and adorned with chains that sparkled in the moonlight. Deep black eyes stared at him with interest as she unsheathed her own dagger.

The metal shined in the fire light as it surrounded them in a ring and glinted vermillion, however as soon as the tip was pressed into his cheek he screamed out in pain.

“Iron, don’t like it do you?” she spat and used the tip of the blade to push his hair from his eyes and scrutinized him as if looking for something to tell her he wasn’t who he appeared to be.

“What’s a Moonling doing here? Far from home,” she murmured.

“I’m Prince Taeyong,” Youngho sputtered, and the woman sat back on her haunches to eye him carefully before a smile played on her lips.

“Forgive your dear sister for not remembering you, you’ve adopted too many of their traits, Little Brother, can’t even speak to the Cù-sìth anymore, can you?” her voice was saccharine and Youngho immediately didn’t trust it even as she called off the hound and he retreated to sit at her heels.

“Mother will be pleased,” Youngho took a shaking breath, and couldn’t discern whether or not she saw through his glamor or not.

She raised an arm and the fire closed in on them, the heat radiated onto his skin and he suddenly felt too hot, he couldn’t breathe as the smoke filled his lungs, choking him before the ring of fire disappeared entirely.

“ _Nox_ ,” was the last thing he heard before he fell limp to the ground.

As he came too once more, surrounding him were seven women with the same snow white hair and obsidian eyes he had grown fond of over time— though these were dark and sinister, nothing at all like the boy who stole his heart.

At the head was the woman from the forest, beside him was another boy— a hyume. His throat was slashed and crimson rivulets flowed freely, some sticky and warm covered his own hands.

The princess stared at him with cold eyes as she began to speak a rhyme, the words echoed in the cavern around them and as she finished the woman to her right began to speak them too until all seven of the women were chanting the same phrase over and over again.

Youngho’s head spun, the world around him spun and he felt light headed, felt his body tingling all over until he felt his skin splitting open painfully and peeling.

“Mirrored now by child of fae, gone is the Ironborn who cannot stay, return to earth and become a victim of faeries’ mirth,” the voices echoed, reaching a crescendo as his body fell limp.

The next thing he knew was suffocating smoke— the blaring of horns and dead bodies. So so many bodies, lying on the floor with lifeless eyes staring it him.

Beside him was his mother, choking on air and screaming in agony as the fire lapped at her legs.

“Run Johnny, get out of here, now!” she had screamed and that was all it took before he was crawling through the wreckage. Tears fell from his eyes and evaporated almost instantly in the heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with maybe the last 1/4 of this chapter but I needed to put something out since it's been three weeks. I really hope you liked this despite how rushed and bad it is. I'm really sorry that on top of being late this chapter is lacking in quality. Please if you liked it, it would mean the world to me if you left a comment, something to brighten my day a little bit if it isn't too much to ask. 
> 
> I'll see you next chapter! Please stay healthy 
> 
> [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ttaeyongs_) | [ Curious Cat ](https://curiouscat.me/ttaeyongs_)


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